mental health

On securely falling back into the pit

May 11, 2017

Slipping back into a depressive period when you’ve been so stable for a good few years is like receiving a letter to warn you of your fate and then descending into hell with a parachute. 

It’s gentle, expected, and eerie. You know this place, you recognise these feelings, and you’re not so scared and alone as you were before. 

If I wasn’t depressed, I’d be frustrated that I am, once again, depressed. I’d be angry and confused as to why I’ve found myself back being hopeless and helpless after doing so well for so long. But I’m depressed, so I’m not feeling that at all. I’m just looking at those feelings having a strop over the other side of room and thinking, “I can’t be arsed to feel that tbh, it’s too much effort and I just don’t care.”


Bath, England (July 2016)

May 04, 2017

I had the idea of visiting Bath after I went to Bristol and realised it was down the road. If it wasn’t for lack of time, I probably would have nagged Ryan to drive us for the day but now I’m glad we dedicated a whole break to the place, because it’s bloody beautiful. 

We wanted to stay in a B&B for this break, but I didn’t know where to find good B&Bs so, like any normal person, I Googled ‘best B&Bs bath’ and was offered an array. Lord, there are a lot of B&Bs in Bath. Our stipulations were ‘parking’ and ‘near to city centre’ and ‘free WiFi’, obviously, and after much trawling I stumbled upon Pulteney House

Guys, they have pet rabbits. I was SOLD.