If I was walking to the shop on my own to buy some milk, I would have also been on an automatic, robot-mode walking at an incredibly fast pace with one thought and one thought only: to purchase the milk and walk back in an equally fast pace, without a care for anything or anyone at all. Milk would have been the only care.
Suicide is the biggest killer of young men in the UK. More than a 100 people die of suicide every week yet no one talks about it. As a society and community, as teachers and parents, as friends and colleagues we need to educate ourselves, ask questions, demand better care for ourselves and our loved ones, especially the young.
Yes, I watched Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None over Christmas. And I was excited, because I read the book when I was younger and I was absolutely gripped, and that was down to nothing more than the exhilarating plotting and words of a lady with a cracking perm. But when I watched the BBC adaptation, I did not expect to feel so excited. In. My. Vagina.
The more influential people that are honest about their own experiences - the more Dwayne Johnson's, Stephen Fry's and Ruby Wax's, Professor Green's and Jonny Benjamin's that speak out and aren't afraid of the judgement of others - the more clues we have to piece together the bigger picture...
He finally left rehab this autumn and I moved back home to be closer to him and my family. I had to be learn to be proud of that achievement at least. It's still hard, to muster up the courage to visit. Because, every time you see them, you know it might be the last.
Those of us based in London or other major cities are living among the youngest, most affluent populations in the country. Life amongst urbanites has its perks: forward thinking, inventiveness, acceptance, open-mindedness to an evolving moral backdrop - a partisan view, I know.
Men United is one team I am happy to support, without question. Sometimes we have to turn a blind eye to our friends little quirks and oddities, I know I did. My best mate is an Evertonian, I am a dyed-in-the-wool Red. And that's exactly what Prostate Cancer UK wants us all to do: get your friends together and do something great to beat this horrible disease that affects one in eight men.
It's not fair that he gets branded as being lazy, messy and childish just because he has dangly bits, when he is none of these things. In fact he is the complete opposite. Without him being the cleaner, the caregiver, the accountant, the shopper, the handyman, the daddy or the lover our household would fall down in a crumbling mess.
Men appear increasingly open to the concept of being 'into fashion'. At any rate, the media's reaction to the growth of the menswear world has mostly been a series of think pieces about changing perceptions of masculinity.
Carol is too emotionally exhausting for an immediate repeat viewing, but I want one. I want a second chance to hear all the unsaid words, to notice all the secret glances, the hopeful hands reaching out to nothing.
Much as I would be the first to point out the holes in the logic of a men's rights activist troll, I would also argue that we desperately need the average man to become involved in debating gender roles. Shouting "Mansplainer!" at them is more than just inappropriate (as we don't in fact, know their experience); it actually debilitates the development of gender equality.
I think it's fantastic that this discussion is now breaking into the mainstream, from Parliament to the Southbank Centre, because I believe it's imperative that men are encouraged to speak about what it means to be a man. But I also believe it's essential that people truly listen when they do.
We have a duty to help both the current and future generations of young men, and that duty entails not only talking, but also action. Men need to be taught to prioritise wellbeing over perceived strength, and this teaching needs to begin from the first day of their lives, not after a failed suicide attempt.
None of this: Eighteen-inch biceps. A moustache that supposedly proclaims your virility. 'Showing appreciation' by leering at girls on the streets. And stalking and harassing a woman until she 'falls in love' with you or hitting your wife or your partner; none of this defines a 'mard', which is the Hindi word for 'man'.
The greater and grittier the female revelation, the more walls broken down - and the louder the critical approbation. But is the same true for men? Is uncensored male candour socially acceptable? Is giving voice to what's truly on your mind more likely to land you unemployable than lauded for your bravery?
In addition to the objects of our desires becoming far more interested in the sharing of our suddenly precious body heat surpluses (and the acts of depravity that inevitably accompany it) we also benefit from body heat and bulk as regards our own comfort- as comedian Dara O Briain puts it, we "winter well".