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“His poetry is lyrical, tender and profoundly moving...It is how those of us with depression live; adrift in the dark depths but forever struggling to the sunlit shallows.” Sally Brampton, author of Shoot the Damn Dog.
When I awake, there are good mornings, when I don’t feel anything in particular. Then there are the mornings when I get the ‘plunge’. The nearest I can describe it is when someone you love tells you it is over. I get this plunging in my stomach and I feel a sadness well up in me like being caught in a wave. If the head decides to pitch in, then it gets a bit more difficult. That manifests itself as a litany of abuse, of negativity, recalling all my mistakes reminding me of my shortcomings and failures. After many years of this it gets harder to fight that voice, to not succumb to its truth. The heart makes itself known at night time, giving me surges of adrenaline when I am at the point of sleeping.