Um. I'm wondering if I may have overdone the grumpy, depressed thing a little in recent days? Reading back over the last few posts, I can see that people might be forgiven for inferring that I live in a very dark and strange place indeed. And that is strictly not so. Yeah, I'm struggling a little with life but, as I wrote (more or less) in a comment on the previous post:
I have a lovely wife, 2 perfect kids, cushy job, etc., etc. I do suffer from moderate levels of depression now and then and, I think, anxiety too, and I've tied myself in emotional knots for 1 or 2 reasons, which'll take years to undo. But I'm ok really.
The only hardship I face is being me. I shouldn't trivialise that -- it has caused me pain and grief for many years -- but, then again, I'm hardly in the same league as Rageboy, for whom, if indeed he suffers as much as he implies, I feel deep empathy.
Remember too, while I have been pretty openly and honestly "me" in this blog, I also reserve the right of all writers, painters, photographers and the rest of them to focus on the detail, to skew the objective and balanced representation, to do that kind of stuff in order to show emotion, rather than try to explain how it is. If I feel black tonight, I want to Paint It Black. Call it therapy if you will. And then I feel a little better and move on. Perhaps there's the danger in this blogging thing, for our words remain behind, long after the emotion that gave them life has gone. This is how I felt then, not for all time.
9:57:06 PM 
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