For a variety of reasons my literary output has diminished of late; as a consequence of this tardiness my mental health has tumbled like a latter-day Humpty Dumpty. With the art of penmanship acting as my goto anti-depressant, it's proved a foolish self-care strategy if ever there was one! As a result, from today I've... Continue Reading →
Expecting The East Ardsley Inquisition
Wednesday AM - After today's habitual cordial exchange of "Good morning." on entering the kitchen, my mum held out her hand to show me a 5mm white disc and questioned "Is this one of your tablets, Gary?" This the first of what I expect will be numerous maternal enquiries of the day. That short seven word... Continue Reading →
His Bite Is Worse Than His Bark
Yesterday, on writesaidfred.org, I published an essay It’s Good To Talk about depression. This updated piece was predominantly written a couple of years ago when I was more guarded about suffering from mental health issues. A time when, in a badly veiled attempt to maintain my anonymity, I'd refer to the sufferer as 'a friend'. As... Continue Reading →