Brains, Balls & Politics

I woke up this morning (Sunday 7 th March) feeling well rested and happy, about a 2.5 on the depressedometer. Yet here I am some eight hours later having about an hour or so ago, slipped rapidly to a seven. I don’t know what triggered it, I seldom do, but the moment I felt the cloud descend, I knew I was in trouble. The symptom most prevalent today is my inability to physically speak without feeling even worse than I already do. It’s strange that I can eloquently string a sentence together in my head but uttering words seems almost impossible. I can’t quite describe it, but I feel like a balloon filled with water, once the water starts leaking (in my case, the words) what follows will be totally out of my control. Actually, that’s a much better way of summing this up, not speaking is currently my only form of control in a state of depression that is otherwise un-controllable. My urge to write this post is, I think, a response to the need I have to ‘spill’ but in a controlled and t