I Eat Happy Meals... Ironically.

Artwork by Matthew Johnstone

When I discovered that Winston Churchill referred to his depression as 'the black dog', I initially found it puzzling. Personally, when I think of a black dog the first image that comes to mind is that of a cute and faithful labrador, a cuddly, loyal companion.

Whilst I admit that depression is nothing if not a loyal beast, what I felt was more akin to being trapped in a steel cage with a rabid, hungry rottweiler. 

Loyal, yes. Cute and cuddly it is not. 

I used to think of my depression as more of a black cloud, though this could be in part due to the fact that one of the main triggers for me is the weather. Rain, I can handle. Thunderstorms, I love. But give me a grey, gloomy day with no discernable purpose other than to block out the sun and blue sky and I am inconsolable. Give me days, weeks even months of this and it's like I lose the will to live. 

That is not to say I don't get down in warmer weather; this is just the one that seems to affect me the most. 

If you choose to be open about your depression, and it isn't always easy to do so, you can always tell when you speak to someone who has not experienced it. 

Some of the most common things that people tell you, "you just need to cheer up" or "snap out of it". Also, "Do more exercise", "stop being so dramatic" and "there are people in this world so much worse off than you."

At it's worst, depression can be just as debilitating and crippling as any physical illness yet no-one would ever dream of  telling someone suffering from physical pain to "cheer up" and pretend it's not there. 

At the risk of sounding 'dramatic' I would even go so far as to describe depression as a cancer or disease of the human spirit, capable of robbing you of everything from your self-esteem, to your will to get up and get dressed in the morning. And unlike many physical diseases there is no one single 'miracle cure,' and everyone who suffers from depression will deal with it differently. 

I could go into the science of depression, chemical imbalances of the brain and whether or not there is a 'depression gene', but I'm not a scientist. I am a writer; I am here for the prose and breaking my feelings down into manageable, happy meal style portions!

Ever since I can remember, I have found it helpful to write my problems down on paper. Three, two, even one week ago I didn't have the will to even do that, so I feel as though I accomplished something just in having written this down today. 

Because I want to end this piece on a high note, I thought I would share one of my favourite things that I discovered whilst researching 'the black dog'; the book I Had a Black Dog by Matthew Johnstone whose illustrations put a genuine smile on my face at a time when I needed it most.

(Originally written in 2013)