The Dating Game
In a move to improve my lockdown exercise regime, along with subsequent imparting of stress therapy, GJ Strachan is contemplating purchasing a heavy duty punchbag. Preferably, around six foot in height, ground based footings and of robust constitution. Blimey, while articulating the previous sentence, it felt like yours truly was penning a half-assed lonely hearts ad........ Continue Reading →
It’s Probably Me
The other day I inadvertently, but gratifyingly, came across an emotive Gregory Porter cover of the song It's Probably Me, originally brought to audiences attention on Sting's 1992 album Ten Summoner' Tales. Porter's version of a refrain performed live in front of an audience including the former the Police frontman, during 2017's Polar Music Prize... 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 →
It’s Good To Talk
It's Mental Health Awareness Week in the UK. As someone who's experienced the all-consuming joylessness of depression I felt it'd be remiss of me not to pen my thoughts on the subject during the days aimed at raising the profile of mental illness. Below I enclose an updated version of an essay I wrote two... Continue Reading →
You Won’t See Nothing Like The Mannequin
Today, while collecting for MacMillan Cancer Support in the Mark & Spencer store on Briggate, Leeds, I was momentarily blindsided by an unexpected instance of paranoia. This incident occurring while undertaking my voluntary role close to the stores Briggate entrance doors. The scene played out a few short yards from the women's clothing department, during... Continue Reading →
To Be, Or Not To Be…..
On Thursday, while queuing for what turned out to be a splendid ham and piccalilli sandwich, I noticed a sign hanging close to the shop entrance advertising a charity called Campaign Against Living in Misery (CALM). As I waited for my butty to be freshly made, I scanned further detail about this campaign/charity, of which... Continue Reading →
On The Last Train To ……..
Friday 8th June - Yesterday, I spoke with a friend stricken by recurrent depressive disorder. A thought-provoking conversation where he revealed the mental lows regularly experienced in the dark corridors his erratic mind. This individual, who for the purposes of anonymity I'll call Lord Smedley, told of his existence in this mental gutter. A solitary... Continue Reading →
The Windows Of My Mind
Yesterday, I received my latest literary offering Flibbertigibbet through the post - A tome containing further excerpts from narratives. Self-published, it contains predominantly light-hearted observations from the depths of my capricious psyche. A 150+ page synergy of diary entries previously published on my website writesaidfred.org . An amalgam of fiction and fact, I think of... Continue Reading →