I have good days and bad days, like everyone does. Yesterday was a good day – a great day – that I’d been looking forward to all week. Went to visit some friends I’d not seen for a few months, took a look at the Selfie exhibit at the National Museum of Wales (oh my goodness you should absolutely go, the Van Gogh was amazing but there were others that moved me tremendously as well!), and had a slap-up lunch afterwards. Great company, busy day, it was marvellous. Travelled home in the evening and slept like a log!

Today is quieter, more contemplative. I think a little come-down from the excitement of yesterday (I barely slept the night before, so I’m also tired), mixed with the gorgeous sunny weather breaking overnight to leave heavy rain-clouds and the previously clear sky coloured in shades of black and grey.

I spent decades suffering badly with what I was diagnosed with as Depression (but now know to be cPTSD) and all my days were kind of ‘meh’, the good ones, anyway. The bad ones were as dark as the sky is today. My point is that I’m lucky to be in a space where most my days are okay, with some being good and some being bad… the peaks and troughs of life are seen through a much more healthy lens these days. But my body remembers those decades spent in despair, and every time a ‘meh’ day comes, the instinct is to assume I’m slipping back under. It takes perseverance to just allow myself these days without feeling like a victim (see ‘Fleas’) of my past, my present, the weather, life…

It’s just a day. And it, too, will pass.