The Divine Hell challenge has come to a sad end. I hope that readers enjoyed all that the writers involved in the challenge had to offer.

If you haven’t read the entries and don’t know who was involved then perhaps you should check out the rather excellent roll calls posted by the lovely David A Ludwig, charity girl Margaret and blog challenge leader ‘Timony Souler.

I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t had chance to read all of the entries, but knowing most of the participants work and snatching reads of the new challengers, I know you won’t be disappointed by their rather brilliant effort.

To regular readers of this mishmash blog, I shouldn’t have to point out my reasons for not taking the time to read each entry. Sadly my mind is elsewhere and it didn’t have the foresight to warn me that it was going on holiday. I’m not doing so well on the personal front. And I’m trying not to overcrowd you with the thoughts that come from that by posting most over at my tumblr as and when I need to.

Christmas is coming and really I should start feeling my usual cheery, Christmassy self, but I’m not. And I don’t seem to be able to rectify that.

My mum’s version of trying to help seems to be to ask me questions about him and then to buy me presents to try to cheer me up. Then she said I should maybe go to the doctor to see if they could help…

I don’t want to do that.

The last things I need are tablets that make me feel even more dead and lifeless inside than I already do. At least the depression is feeling something, even if some of those things are suicidal and painful. It’s better than nothing at all.

And I already feel nothing at all when I’m not feeling depressed.

I don’t know how to beat this…

It’s the worst kind of hell.

Because I like Scrubs & this song is the circular rhetoric I can’t escape.

Anyway, I’m not going to keep going on about it right now. I have things to do. Furthermore, this was supposed to be a cheery post about my fantastic fellow writers.

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1 thought on “Aftermath”

  1. Don't be scared of the happy pills, honestly. I went on them for a year and a half when I was under so much strain that I cracked. They don't make you dead inside, they just replace the seratonin that your body isn't making for itself right now. I don't regret taking them for a second. When I was stronger and needed them less, I was able to replace them with an exercise programme that did the same thing.

    There's nothing wrong with accepting a little help when you need it. If you don't want to see a doctor, go to a few dance classes or aerobics classes – the endorphins and the rhythm do the same thing. They are the best antidote for sadness.

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