We need to talk about Collin*

I was recently talking to a friend about depression – we have both suffered with it off and on and they are one of the first people I go to when I’m ‘having a sad’. Talking to them made me think about my own history. I have always tried to be open about my mental health issues and in this spirit of openness, I’m going to talk about it again. My depression first reared its head after the birth of my daughter. It wasn’t PND, but the shitty childhood I had had was suddenly back in my mind as something I was determined my girl wouldn’t suffer. In retrospect, I’d had depression for most of my life but in the 1960s, wee lassies (or adults for that matter) from working class backgrounds had to suck it up and get on with it or...

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More About Mum

There doesn’t seem to have been any improvement regarding mum. I am trying my best to stand back, but I find it terribly difficult. Yes, the stress of dealing with her makes me ill, but she’s still my mum. Anyway, after withdrawing for a while I called her on Friday. She told me her ear was still sore and bleeding so I suggested she call the doctor. She promised she would and that she’d call me back as soon as he had left. I heard nothing from her all weekend but reckoned that if anything major was wrong, her carers or the sheltered housing warden would call me to let me know. Yesterday, I gave in and called her. I got so many conflicting stories: that the doctor came and wanted her to take something but she didn’t have whatever it was that was prescribed. But...

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A Wee Black Dog

I made a quiet promise to myself that I was going to blog once a week this year. I didn’t ‘go public’ with it because that just adds pressure and makes me less likely to do it, just to be awkward. I’m like that. Anyhoo, for a variety of reasons too boring and personal to go into, I feel I’m slipping back into a depressive period again. I tell you this not to get sympathy; Lord knows, there are many far, far worse than me out there. I tell you because I’m not ashamed of mental illness and if I had broken my leg I’d certainly be moaning long and hard about that.  I’ve been through enough depressive periods to recognise the symptoms by now. I withdraw, get quiet, get irrationally angry at little things. Thank gawd I have the maturity to hold my tongue in work...

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The Black Dog and the Virtual World

I have written this additional blog post about depression and the power of social media as part of Sane’s Virtual Black Dog campaign. I have had depression off and on for most of my life. It wasn’t diagnosed until just after my daughter was born, 17 years ago, but the symptoms were there long before that. Until recently, it’s something I kept quiet about. While I wasn’t quite ‘ashamed’ of my illness, I certainly didn’t go around talking about it. After all, I’d seen how mental illness was treated on television, in the movies, by my neighbours… To admit to mental illness was to admit to madness and to invite the status of social pariah upon oneself. You’d almost think it was infectious. By a happy coincidence, just when my depression was at its worst the internet...

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I’ve been busy, honest…

So, it’s been a while. How have you been? Yes, I know you haven’t heard from me for a while, but I have had my reasons, honest! I’ve been going through a flare up of my fibro and haven’t been firing on all cylinders for a couple of weeks. I’m improving again and I hope to be 100% – or as near to it as i get – very soon. I’ve also been spending time building up my own little business, Meldrum Media, and have a few satisfied clients already. In fact, I’ve been so busy working for other people that my own business website has had to take second place and still needs quite a bit of work doing to it. The project which has taken up most of my time recently is #TweeHee, a campaign where I am trying to raise money for...

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