Friday, 8 September 2017

Violins of autumn

I need to talk, the words have been bubbling up in my throat straight from my heart for the last week or so. I need to speak out in order to take power away from my depression. It has been winning, it has taken me by such surprise, such as when you walk up the stairs, think there is one more to come and fall through the air and your heart sinks. I haven't been able to read or write, barely walk or talk for depression has destroyed me. 

Many days on the sofa in my pj's, forgetting to eat or drink, unable to wash or care about anything - this has been the reason I have been absent from the blogging world. Absent from life.

As Friday night draws closer I feel evermore like rotten fruit felt to disintegrate in a mouldy heap. The weekend is coming and I could see it in hell; I just want to be alone, unseen. Resting, a drugged sleep if need be, until I feel half myself again. 

I did taste a reprieve on Wednesday evening; I thought I'd turned a corner with the help of a wonderful harvest to process - I sang silly songs and worked with Andrew making apple and stem ginger compote and damson fruit leather. It was wonderful. But all the more painful for having been ripped away from me the next morning.

I have fun things to share and lots of photos from weeks past but for now, please hold me in your thoughts a moment and spare a little love for one who feels so empty. 

Though I know I am blessed beyond measure by having Andrew by my side and
Carrie x