Tuesday 30th April
How do you explain one’s moods; the brief ecstacy; the feeling that everything is quite fine really; no, I mean really. The boredom, the slight anticipation, the descent into depression as you realise that nothing has changed, and worse still maybe, nothing will.
And at the back of one’s mind, what started off as a hint, a mere possibility, shadows into some sort of dead certainty – that it might all be chemistry, after all. The brain’s moods are almost certainly determined by an imbalance in the complex chemistry rather than what we might consider events in the real world.
I am in the middle of a full-blown cold, streaming nose, ratcheting sore throat and a continual headache that craves Neurofen, but which my brain tells me ‘two a day is enough’ . And so, everything looks bad. The conversation with my son on the phone bothers me more than it should, the usual morning routine of jobs gets me down, the journey to work becomes unbearable, strap-hanging at my age and none of these youngsters will dream of giving up their seat for me. Even, and dare I mention it, the writing of this blog becomes a chore (not really, dear reader, but the very fact that it has to be done is a pain), and work itself, like some Damoclean sword twisting and turning in the sunlight is constantly suspended above my poor sore head. “Have the day off, if you feel so rotten.” Do I hear you call out. Well, if only. But as I have said many times before ‘If I don’t do my work, I have to do it,’ – and I may well feel worse tomorrow.
So plod on I do, and despite the cold I will do my best. And the worst of it is that I know, that despite my feelings it probably all is just bloody chemistry Why on earth isn’t Prozac freely available at special ‘Happy’ booths on every high street.