Mud, mud, glorious mud.

17 Mar 2016

"There's nothing quite like it for cooling the blood..." goes the song. And I agree. My feet were ankle deep in the stuff, it was under my nails from picking up the skins from the half-time oranges and I had a Harry Potter style scar splatter across my forehead, where an annoyed boy had kicked up a dollop of it at the try line. (He was lovely, he apologised and I laughed.)

I've been wrestling with my low for some weeks. It's been better this Winter than any other Winter for a long time, but still it remains to be seen whether it will grind me to a pulp or ease its grip.

In an effort to battle back and loosen its surly grip, I made myself watch my son's rugby match. I didn't have to as it was within normal school hours. But I made myself go. Partly because I like to watch, partly because I like him to know I have him and partly because I knew being outside, with like-minded people would help. We huddled in the rain. We shivered in the cold. We squelched in the mud. I kept my distance but we were still together.

I came home and realised once again I had the magic thing. Perspective. It had brought me perspective. I was grateful for warmth, grateful for dinner only needing warmed up, grateful for my walls and my roof. For a short time, the thoughts, the whirring, the nagging, the sick feeling, the iron cloak, had all slid into the waiting room and I had had a rest from it.

There is still daylight as I type. I have a good feeling it's going to be okay.

Love from

The room above the garage

A Moodscope member.

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Moodscope members seek to support each other by sharing their experiences through this blog. Posts and comments on the blog are the personal views of Moodscope members, they are for informational purposes only and do not constitute medical advice.

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