Ten Years After

It is the last day of August and the ten year anniversary of my finest depression. It coincided with the death of Diana ex-Princess of Wales, and I wrote about it here.

It's no secret that I have suffered serious depression in my life, and I have no shame in telling of my journeys through the underworld of mental anguish; indeed I believe it is the duty of all sufferers to report back from the brink as best they can, for the benefit of those who need healing, that the light is still available to them whether or not they pay their personal electricity bill.

Knowledge of the underworld does bring with it certain responsibilities, the result of hard-won knowledge, not the least being that the darkness is only a shadow, and movement is inevitable, so that sooner or later, the obstruction between you and the glowing metaphor of contentment will no longer be there. Ten years on, I am much less susceptible to depression than ever I was, and less scared by the facts of the human condition. Fall seven times, stand up eight, goes the Japanese proverb.

I think I have just enough time to make another music podcast before I head off to Birmingham to celebrate being Deek Deekster.