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Tag: depression

Mummy’s Depressed Darling

Depression is a change in perspective. Nothing can be different in reality from this week to the next but the perception of that reality is completely altered. To bring this point home – I can actually take a photograph of myself and keep that photo on my phone. Nothing in that photo has changed, nothing has been edited. But I can look at that photo on a Monday and completely loathe what I see. I can look at the same photo, the exact same photo on a Tuesday and be so astounded at how attractive and slim I look I will post it to Facebook. Nothing has changed – except on Monday I was depressed and on Tuesday the cloud had lifted. My perspective of my reality had changed.…

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To the kids being bullied – One Day

To the kids being bullied, I know that today the bullies matter. I know that right now you can’t see anything else. I know that you think that all you are is a kid being bullied and all they are – are bullies. One day your life won’t be about school. One day you’ll venture so much further than the school gates. One day you’ll travel. Because you can! You can do whatever you want. I want you to imagine you’re up in a plane one day. You take off and start to pass cloud after cloud. You look down and see people. They get smaller and smaller and smaller until you can barely see them. It strikes you that they look a bit like ants. As you pass…

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Depression : The search for Dr Right

A lifetime ago I joined a dating site in order to find Mr Right. I don’t mind telling you – I still have nightmares about it now. Where do I start? There was the man who spent the whole meal only talking about how he had a severe peanut allergy and how he wouldn’t even order anything with pine nuts incase it was a misspelling. That was fun. There was the man who turned up wearing a sort of heavy duty army style back pack, which he didn’t take off and announced he had just “just come from a funeral”. He was terrifying. There was the man who clearly thought I looked fatter in real life than in my profile picture (don’t we all?) and spent the whole time…

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The Slow Clap

  Yesterday evening, thirteen hours into my day with my two young sons, I sat, slumped on the closed toilet lid watching them in the bath together. The three year old, long and slender, pale, the water only covering his bent knees; The ten month old sitting stoutly, portly and stocky, his two lone teeth shining in a goofy grin, the water rippling around his Buddha stomach. The baby smacked the surface of the water with his sausage like paws a few times and looked shocked at the water hitting his face – and repeat. The eldest talked his younger brother through the bath process – showed him the sponge, talked about the temperature of the water etc. I sat half coma-like, half in panic attack alertness to ensure…

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