Two things to tell you. One, I’m writing a book (you might know this already). Two, I suffer from depression. As things stand right now, managing the first is harder than the second. I’ve toyed with the idea of discussing depression on this blog for a long time, but it was difficult for all kinds of reasons. Primarily, I was embarrassed. No matter how many times you’re told that “you wouldn’t be ashamed of breaking your leg”, there’s a stigma around mental health which doesn’t exist for most other illnesses or injuries (unless you get a hoover stuck up your arse, or similar).
So, rather than give you a long explanation of what happened to me, I thought I’d share a very short extract from my book (likely publication date – never). Most of the novel is entirely fictional, but because it addresses a main character with depression, I’ve obviously drawn on some of my experiences.