Dear Depression: Fuck Off Mate, I’m On Me Holibobs

I thought my depression would’ve stayed at home in pissy West Sussex rather than joining me on my “Brits Abroad” style vacay, but no, it came along for the ride.

Yesterday I came back from my holiday in Tenerife, twas lovely, thanks for asking. Yes, I do have white bits but no you can’t see them.

Picture this: Me, in a gorgeous thinning black swimming costume, sipping a 3-pint pitcher of lager on the beach while topping up my tan. Nice image, eh? Everything seemed perfect but the dark shadow of my depression came floating past and remained above my head for, well let’s say a good 30% of the holiday.

Some of the thoughts from my holiday depression:

  • It might be June, but I need to sort out Christmas family arrangements OTHERWISE EVERYONE WILL BE ON THEIR OWN AND IT WILL ALL BE MY FAULT
  • I haven’t text “Insert name of any human who I know” – they must think that I don’t like them/we’re not as close/I’M GOING TO DIE YOUNG AND ALONE!
  • Life is rubbish and I’m going to get Motor Neurone Disease any day now

I possibly wasn’t helping my depression by having 4 chocolate pastries, a huge cooked breakfast and at least 2 beers before midday. So once I’d cut down my alcohol intake, added a few slices of orange to ma breakfast and went for a few walks I did start to feel some what better.

Speaking to my fiance also made me feel more positive about things, she’s awesome like that. NO YOU CAN’T HAVE HER, SHE’S MINE! PLEASE DON’T EVER LEAVE…

So yeah, cheers depression, you may have shat on some of this holiday, but I won’t let you ruin my next one. #BangkokForJennas30th