Eleanor Rigby was surely a Ninja.

18 Jul 2015

I woke a little less heavy than normal and looked out at the sunshine smothering every part of life outside in her kiss. I looked at the garden. So well cared for and bursting with life. I looked at the mountains on 3 sides and at the sea on the 4th. I looked at the elegant parade that is my home for the holiday and admired it. I had left behind a thousand demands and woke for the 6th morning into this embrace. But...

I paced. I felt tormented by the ramble of voices when everyone woke. But I couldn't settle without them. I laundered things that could wait. I read a single page of my book. Then I read it again. I tried twice more then changed to the other book. The one I alternate with when I'm trying very hard to try hard.

Depression and it's cousins are visiting me on holiday and it's just bad manners. I have a face like a wet weekend and I wish to apologise and explain but in doing so it destroys the bricks of resilience I have managed to lay. Just two so far.

And so I made myself eat a banana. And drank two small cups of coffee. Looked at the mountains and realised they hold more secrets than just mine. And I wrote this. And now I have a starting point once again. I pulled on my Eleanor Rigby face that I keep in the jar by the door. And it will be ok. Ok is ok.

And I resisted the urge to edit all the 'ands'. I like them. They're better than 'buts'.

Try to find your starting point, everyday. Find a way to break through. You may not outrun it for long but you can for a bit. And everyday you know more. Go ninjas!

Love from

The room above the garage.

A Moodscope member.

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