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Tag Archives: The Black Dog

Bring me sunshine

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Had a weird week where I hit a major low a couple of times.  Became obsessed with the idea that every time I had a massive dip in mood and self-worth (which is different to self esteem apparently), that some kind of horrendous disaster occurred to someone else.
I felt shit about myself – Manchester bombing.  Had another slump. – London stabbings. Last week, went to bed full of woe and gloom and self-depreciation for no apparent reason I could justify. Black dog snapping at my heels.  Boom! Grenfell Tower fire next day.
Began to feel like a harbinger of death, a bit like Richard Burton in ‘
The Medusa Touch’. Now I daren’t confess to feeling down in case it causes karma to slap me in the face with another horrifying news story of death and mindless waste of life.  Life shouting at me,  “BUCKLE UP FUCK NUGGET! SOME DAYS ARE A BIT WANK. DEAL WITH IT.  SHIT COULD BE WAY WORSE. LIKE FOR THESE POOR FUCKERS, CHECK IT OUT!”  Cue next news story of gloom, doom, hideous untimely death and sorrow.

Life can be a bit of a cunt at times (and depression lies!)

But life can also be beautiful. Kind. Loving. Funny. Worth it.

Today we had a very sunny family day in the garden for Father’s Day.  I swung in a hammock with a glass of Pimms and a new book, and life was good and I was glad to be alive.

And again this morning. 






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I was uncharacteristically off sick a couple of days last week. I would usually have ploughed on at work but I just couldn’t do it.  Ended up with youngest at home too, sent home sick herself.  Can’t even be off sick in peace eh? Lol.

Back at work this week but began to feel unwell again almost immediately.


Feeling more like it today.  Possibly due to a new frock and it being a sunny day.



Funny how little a thing it can take to tip a person over the edge and how little a thing can pull them back from the brink. Yesterday it was an evening not having any arguments at home and receiving a friendly text. Little autonomic jags to get you through another day.

I’m quite open about my battles with the black dog.  I don’t make a secret of it.  I’m just naturally miserable most of the time truth be told.  Eeyore gloom times. 


I would never describe myself as ever having been suicidal, but more times than I can think of I have often thought I would be better off dead! Pondered a bit whilst crossing the road, “what if?” when a bus was coming, that sort of thing.  Doubted anyone would notice my absence, or be that bothered after a while.  Thinking my kids would be better off without me and that my husband wouldn’t be bothered.  He doesn’t want to be with me really.  Life would go on without me. I’m just not that important in the grand scheme of things.  I sometimes wish I was as thick as others then I wouldn’t have these deep and depressing thoughts.
It would probably surprise you just how many people feel the same from time to time…if only they would talk about it.  If you do tell people, more than you’d think will tell you that they sometimes feel the same.

No need to hide the knife rack of anything.  I’m pretty good now at knowing when the black dog is nipping at my heels and I know it’ll go away pretty soon.  It’s just that when it’s there. It’s bad.


Tonight I may sleep on the couch. Again. Waiting to see on the news whether we’re remaining or leaving the EU.  I don’t really know what either result will mean in reality – but then does anyone?  I’m slightly worried that crazy people, the ill-informed, the bigoted and the brainless will turn out in droves and we could all go to hell in a handcart quicker than we already are.

Addendum: got bored of watching referendum sizzle and switched to First Dates instead.

Le chien noir (it sounds so much less ugly in French)

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I won’t lie to you… mentally, I’m not doing so good these days.

Alzheimer’s, blondeness or just being a muppet.  What can I tell you?

The other day I spent five minutes searching for my toothbrush that I was becoming increasingly convinced I’d left in Chester… while I was actually brushing my teeth- TOOTHBRUSH IN MOUTH!  This was just 2 days after the arm in bin episode of the train journey to Chester – retrieving rail passes I’d accidentally thrown away.

Such premature senior moments are the more amusing side to this early onset dementia.

Less amusing though is the Black Dog.

gonna get ya

gonna get ya

It’s always there, lurking.

It makes me hide from mirrors because I don’t like to see myself:- my miserable face, my moles, my hair, my blotchy skin.  It makes me prefer to stay in bed rather than get up and do, because under my duvet I am smaller, more petite, less cumbersome than when I’m up and dressed; lurching about in my shitty $5 ‘Ugg’s and last season’s Primada; shouting, shouting shouting.
I don’t even like the sound of my voice, which you may find hard to believe!  I’d happily spend days on end not speaking at all.  I think that’s why I’ve embraced the Internet.  I can babble bollocks and shout out loud and call out a load of shit into the Ether and yet…I cannot hear my voice.

It’s the black dog that makes me not want to go out (Out Out).
I have nothing to wear, nothing of any import to say.  What I do say will likely offend or make me sound stupid.  I will get drunk and make an asshole of myself.  It is far safer for everyone if I remain in my own home then I can be an embarrassment to no-one.

The dog tells me to eat healthier and do more exercise  but it also tells me that there is no point  – I may as well just eat shit and lay around with the curtains closed.  It tells me that my parenting is hopeless.  I’ve fucked up my kids & may as well not be here. They’d be better off without me. It tells me every night when I get back into bed that today could have gone so much better but that I screwed up again.  It reminds me how pointless I am to the World, that nobody listens.  That I am surrounded, day in and day out, by children – whether they be my own or other people’s.  None of these children listen to me. Why should they?  My own don’t, so why the hell should any of the others.  Pick up your clothes, tidy your room, do your homework. Stop whining, Stop crying. Why the constant crying over nothing (oh yeah… you belong to me. You are a mini-me!  Holy shit!!)
There is no escape from the children. My children , the neighbouring children.  I go to the dustbin and hear
“Hya Mrs B!”  I am never on my own unless I manage to sneak away at lunchtime from work and come home when nobody is in but me. 

It is silent. 

There is just me. 

It’s very calming. 

I need more times like this.

Yes, the Black Dog is becoming more and more prevalent these days.  Not like Son of Sam  style.   I’m compos enough to not start picking off the neighbours with a .44 or anything.  (I know it’s not a real dog y’all!)  It’s just my name for the Mean Reds (which are worse than the blues, because there’s no reason for it).

There aint no Tiffanys round these parts though to help me though.  Bejesus!

If Holly Golightly got the Mean Reds, what chance do I have?


It’s almost bedtime again.  The best part of the day.  Until tomorrow when we will do it all again and hope that the Black Dog stays asleep and does not bother me.


Last Days of Summer

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Name that Tune:   “I’ve never gotten used to it, I’ve just learned to turn it off”- If you see her say hello – Bob Dylan

Movie Quote of the Day:         There’s only one thing impossible and that is to love and to part” – Room with a View

Hot times.  Catching up with best mates times.  Pear Koppaberg Times.  Zoo times.

Unseasonably hot weather for October 1st and no doubt it being the last weekend before the Dinosaurs Alive exhibition finished meant that Chester Zoo was rammed to the max.  20 minutes to get through the Fast Track gate! Crikey!

  A was afraid of the dinosaurs and refused to go anywhere near them at first, but then got all blasé about them once we were out and made me go all the way round again so she could have her photo taken with them.

 I got most excited when we found the Parrot Breeding Centre but was disappointed to find the viewing part unoccupied by my favourite feathered friends. 

  I like to think that they were all behind the screen on a BMX track with miniature half-pipe; catching some air and giving it their best Tony Hawks bird style.  Or even rehearsing for an all McCaw version of Starlight Express on their little roller-skates.






                                                         Wishful thinking.

 Spent Saturday early evening teaching the Childerbeast how to climb trees in a silk frock in a ladylike fashion before hunkering down to watch Doctor Who and the new season of Merlin.  Whoopass!  Rock & flippin roll man!  Tartan blanket and a small sherry over here please…










 Got a touch of the ‘Black Dogs’ today at work. . .

Came home and walked barefoot around the garden before sitting cross legged for half an hour feeling the grass under foot (or under ass as it were) and cloud watching.  Barefoot in the grass never fails to calm me down.  Don’t know why.  Must be the feral in me I guess.