I crave light. Not heat (I wilt, like the special English snowflake that I am), but long hours of clear sunlight. I do better outside, soaking up the light, breathing in the fresh air. I wonder if that’s why my mood soared during those few days on Tiree, and has stayed up?
The last couple of weeks, I’ve slept little, but slept well. One of the worst symptoms of depression for me is the wrecked sleep; not being able to sleep when you crave it is torture. But somewhere a switch has flipped. I’m not sleep I’m hungry for any more, instead I’m craving life. Maybe I need to catch up after those months of nothingness? It’s all made more acute as I’m trying to balance out this sudden hedonistic urge with the heaviest part of this year’s workload.
The dawn chorus woke me well before 4 this morning. I went and sat in my garden, just breathing and being (yeah, my neighbours know I’m a mad old hippy). I even left the camera behind. High as a kite from inhaling dew and birdsong, I was, for once, firmly in the present time and place, not looking to escape to some other.
An hour later, with the sun firmly risen, I climbed back into bed, cold and damp round the edges, and lay there too euphoric to sleep, writing blogposts in my head. Sunset will probably find me on a hilltop somewhere, because I can’t bear to be wasting a minute.
“If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself”
That sums up the last few weeks for me (music has forced its way back into my life, this is one of a number of albums I’ve had on repeat for the last week or two.)
Once the words started coming, I couldn’t stop them.