- Go to Platt Fields Park and stare at the birds. Actually, first of all, stare at their poop, which is mixed with wet leaves and mud into the path around the pond. You need to appreciate the volume of poop before you go ahead and stare at the birds. Watch some gulls and geese having a fallout. Watch a little coot nipping across the water. Watch a massive muddy swan flop onto dry land, walk to the grass, and start eating dirt. Continue reading “Top 10 Depression Activities”
There’s nothing more narcissistic than anxiety. I was sixteen, and I had been to a birthday party. I had felt anxious and silly all night, a spare part, like me and everyone there were sharing this silent joke that I probably shouldn’t be there but, like, okay. Lying in bed afterwards, I was listening to Radio 4 as I tried to sleep. (Radio 4: home to The Archers, the shipping forecast, plays that feature the sound of footsteps more heavily than you’d expect.) It had been my lullaby for years – the Book at Bedtime into the news into whatever feature they had at 11pm, not boring, just reliable, polite.
So – Radio 4, me in bed, facing the wall but antsy and panicking, the kind of panic that can grow big and then fall in on itself. There was a poetry programme on. The presenter read out an email or something from a listener. He wanted, the presenter said, a certain poem to be read. It would make his day if they would read out this poem. Continue reading “Mental Illness, Ira Glass, and Me: A Love Letter to Podcasts”