Down, down, deeper and down.

After the highs of last week, meeting old friends ( twice) , going to 'that there London', winning £70 on the lottery and contributing to Culture Wars Week amongst other things.

I find that today the 'black dog' has returned with a vengeance and once more I am in the Slough of Despond. As you get older it becomes harder and harder to 'bounce back' from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and you tend to dwell on the 'what ifs' and 'roads not taken', like an outclassed boxer, you wonder what's the point of struggling to get up again, if they're only going to knock you down.

I've had enough therapy to know that this is not healthy, but it steals up on you and before you know it, you're back at the bottom of the hole looking up again.

So instead of sitting here being self-pitying ( and the self-loathing that goes with the awareness that you're being self-pitying)

I'm going to go for a brisk walk amongst green things and see if that helps ( it sometimes does).
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