The Big D Word

n a few weeks I went from being seen and heard to being invisible around people. That's what it is with all this I guess. You don't want to talk because you are scared you will burst into tears, and not only that, but there's no answer to tell people when they ask you what's wrong.

If you read my blogs, you may have noticed my last one was GRIM with a capital GRIM. I've been feeling a bit low recently, and this blog isn't about to pick up.

Most of the time I am an upbeat, happy, loud (I can hear my mums voice in my head now correcting me "very loud"), *confident person. I bounce out of bed in the morning, have a huge circle of friends, and by my Instagram page at least, a bloody wonderful life. And I do, I really do. But lately, I have turned down amazing nights out. I have ignored calls from close friends, cancelled lunches, not shared on my mum's hilarious text messages to my entire phone book. And this is because, I am just a little bit depressed. Not bed bound depressed. Not worryingly depressed. Just a little bit, well, down.

So, like anyone who appreciates a good life and a happy outlook, I took charge. I started juicing. I followed Jason Vale's The Juice Master to help me cheer me the hell up a bit. I have even taken up running.

Unfortunately I come from a history of depression in my family, which meant as a young girl I read all kinds of literature on it, so I know the drill. I know to work out, eat well, and talk to people. And before this blog gets forwarded to a friend or concerned relatives, it is not an issue. I am not suicidal. I am not even that bad. I am just a bit down. It's difficult being this bouncy person who suddenly sulks in the corner. In a few weeks I went from being seen and heard to being invisible around people. That's what it is with all this I guess. You don't want to talk because you are scared you will burst into tears, and not only that, but there's no answer to tell people when they ask you what's wrong.

So, you keep eating as well as you can, and you keep forcing yourself to go for a run. You keep playing those happy songs (today's song Somebody Loves You by Betty Who, get ON it), and you keep your head down and hope that all your wonderful mates and colleagues will understand and accept your invitation for a big ole night out when you reach the other side.

Then, just like that I look on Facebook. My actor friend (and ex plumber) Wim Snape spent his afternoon fixing the boiler of his elderly neighbour, and just like that I smile again. Ups and downs, innit?

*not always

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