My secret weapon is..

Ice cream.

dessert

This is a photograph of chocolate pudding, as Ice cream does not survive around me long enough for me to take a photograph.

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I was never ill.  Then I passed thirty and my body changed.  I began to develop symptoms, and I would go to the Doctor.

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Each time, I had tests.  The Doctor would look serious, and talk about my age.  If I was still in my twenties, the statistics were hopeful, but

‘You are over thirty.’

Each time, I would sit in the  local park, and have an anxiety attack.

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Once I was going to say to the Doctor,

“I can’t die!  My family will starve!”

And it is true.

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No-one cooks.

I imagine my funeral,..

a black carriage, horses with dark plumes, and my family follow, ashen-faced because they are facing a future of Cornflakes and Pop Tarts.

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The kitchen is no longer the bright place it is today, in which I listen to the radio and make a rainbow salad.

It will become a cold, dank place covered in cobwebs.

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At times like these I eat ice cream.

I have a theory,..

I am unwell, and unable to digest food properly.

Ice cream is soft, and the digestive system has less work to do.

Glucose enables my body to produce electrolytes. The milk solids will provide protein which enables my body to create amino acids.

I now have the building blocks of life, and my body is able to begin the healing process.

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My family think this is ridiculous, and that I eat too much ice cream, but it works.

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It has not helped me to cure depression, but I do feel less down in the dumps.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “

  1. Delightful, again. What I find surprising is that usually depressed people are portrayed to live in exactly the same conditions which you describe your family to find themselves in if you are no longer around. They are said to be too apathetic to care about appearances. They eat junk food because they have no energy to look after their nutrition, to shop for proper food and to cook. Their depression makes them neglect their personal hygiene and the hygiene of their house too. And here you say the opposite, that you are the only one to care about that stuff, to make “rainbow salads” and the kitchen “bright”. Your blog is called “a pretty day”, you imagine your funeral as a Gothic fairytale and your photos show the beauty of nature, mostly flowers, because that’s what you focus on. All this is so incongruent with my idea of depression!

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  2. Thank you for your comment! It is true that depression means those things, as I remember from my first encounter with this illness. My ambition was to defeat depression, but that was not an easy task. However, I realised I could challenge the other aspects. In the first months, I struggled with self-care, and I remember pulling the curtains. I spent days in the semi-darkness.

    However, I understood that could not continue. I go out of my way to buy things with colour and sparkle, and I try to surround myself with colour.

    I also like to buy food that is colourful, and always look for new items in the salad section,..for example, beetroot and kiwi.

    Like

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