The D word
It isn't just Gordon Brown who was having trouble yesterday with the d-word. Depression is unspeakable, it is almost as bad as the n word or c word or even the g word, as Carol found out.
I had to go and see the Saw-bones yesterday about my tinnitus. A condition that can contribute to the depression, officially. But he couldn't bring himself to mention it, skirting round asking whether I was a bit low, was it getting to me...etc etc. He looked up in his easy guide to drugs any possible remedies and of course Valium is mentioned because it relaxes the ear muscles, but he ummed and aahed and said he would ask a senior partner if anything might help. He didn't dare mention it to me presumably in case I became "officially" depressed, or a raving drug addict or both.
And of course I don't want to be "officially" depressed as Plod will be round emptying the gun cabinet quicker than they can sprint down a tube station. And it doesn't make me depressed, a bit short of sleep and a bit irritable maybe, but then what is new?
(And to extend the apology to music lovers it means Friday night will continue to feature thrashy loud music sometimes. I have always been tone deaf - my bluetooth in car phone thingy plays three tones to indicate if it is turning on or off, the manual tells me the tones go up when it goes on and down as it goes off - I can't tell the bloody difference so I never know if it is off or on. And don't get me started about the difference between 5/4 time and the ticking of a clock; like a drummer i have hung around with musicians and they have patiently explained it to me, I have never managed to hear what they are on about. I may miss out aurally but I'm a Supertaster so my oral pleasures are intense and the joy of scent, heaven.)