Depression is a part of me, just like back pain!

Double Vision with Charlie Adley

As my eyes opened this morning, I was immediately aware of its strength. Phwhooo, this one is a doozy: a real humdinger. ‘Oh boy, here we go again!’ I thought to myself, remembering how strange I’d felt yesterday evening, as if I was coming down with something.

Turns out I was. I don’t care whether depression is an illness, a condition or a disease. As far as I’m concerned, you can call it whatever you want.

It’s back.

People often tell me I’m brave to write about depression, but I genuinely don’t feel it. The only reason I’m writing about my mental state today is that, given the force of this dose, I’m unable to write about anything else.

At the risk of sounding tediously liberal, I can’t see the difference between one bodily function and another. Well, yes I can, in that I don’t eat through my botty or pooh out my mouth (although some might beg to differ) but where others think of the mind as a separate entity, I perceive it solely as part of my body; my oneness.

I don’t separate the mind that creates the thought from the fingers that somehow magically tap it into the computer.

The fact that my brainbox does things that many others do not feels no more nor less important than my two squeezed vertebrae. If I were really brave, I’d be writing about the reasons I use a certain cream, but I’ve no intention of telling you that, you’ll be delighted to hear.

Thanks to an ace physiotherapist, who gave me ten stretches to do each morning, I can now live free of back pain. Although I’m in awe of the way those stretches make my whole body feel after a few days, I’m very human, so when the pain goes, I become lazy, complacent and forget to do them.

To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.