HT phoned at 0930 - I have to go to the clinic to see Dr Gowing, a major blow as it means I have had to have a shower and get dressed. Didn't quite manage to wash the hair, but the rest of me is squeaky clean, and I'm dressed. I must have something to eat before I go out, or I might faint or otherwise let myself down - the trouble is that I don't really fancy anything. Last night's banjo was good, but it's too heavy a meal for right now. Maybe a piece of toast and some orange juice will do the trick. I've never had lack of appetite before with depression, so that's a first - usually, I eat and drink for England. Maybe it's the drugs - everything gets blamed on the drugs.
HT are collecting me at 1030, so I'd better get my finger out of its customary
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?