I got written off work early December. I had a depressive episode in the office, that manifested when someone asked if I were okay. I’m sure a lot of people can relate. I hate not being at work. There’s no distractions, nothing to keep your mind off of…well, your mind. So I’ve sat in my flat over December feeling worse when I should be feeling better.
What it did do is allow me to see my family, which was nice. I don’t see them often enough, I think. I did struggle with seeing them. I felt like I’ve noticed this year how much older and slower some of them have gotten. I realise how afraid of seeing them die I am. It’s not a nice feeling. But it was good to see them.
I got a small sketchbook from an old friend, with a touching message inside it. I’ve done a couple of paintings in it, after spending time browsing other peoples stuff online for inspiration. I like the small pages and the fact I can do a picture in, like, 20 minutes.
“Nobody realises that some people expend tremendous effort merely to appear normal.”
Albert Camus.
Art and Sadness 