Return of the Black Dog

Now then! For a while now I’ve had the black dog keeping me company. At the beginning it followed behind me playfully wagging its tail as I got on with my day-to-day life. I tried losing it – a quick corner into selfcare, sprinting away on a bike ride and just out right ignoring it, but it just went from a playful puppy following me around to full blown adult sitting heavy on my chest making it a struggle to get out of bed.

Now I’ve done the brave and correct thing and barely told anybody!

Why?

I’ve been here before, I’ve worn the t-shirt, I’ve still got it in my wardrobe, but revealing and then facing people after fills me with fear this time round. Maybe it’s because if everyone knows then I have to admit I’m really not well – I’ve been exclaiming when asked or on the socials that I’m lovin life and it’s not that I’m not lovin life – I live a very good life, amazing work/life balance, amazingly healthy and happy relationship, amazing 6 year old daughter who is just the best (I’m biased I know!) amazing friends, family the lot…but I think about death and not being here a lot and that is fucking scary! And that is what I think others will think when they find out.

“What have you got the be depressed about?”

Nothing! That’s the scary thing and that’s the thing with mental illness it doesn’t care who you are or where you’re from – it’s an illness that needs treatment and right now I need to work out what that treatment will be.

It’s time to send this black dog back to the kennels, it might take some time, it might be back again, but it’s time stop the big sighs and get on the road to recovery…and face people. Urgh!

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