Minds do matter

I hate the Christmas break. It’s a time for being alone, cold and generally miserable with existence. The weather is naff, the shops are shut and there’s a sense of enforced joy that rubs me the wrong way. And if that sounds curmudgeonly, my apologies – it’s supposed to sound depressive. My mental health is a precarious bastard that is constantly trying to kill me, and there’s really not too much I can do about that. Sometimes I just huddle in a corner, close my eyes and hope through sheer force of will I’ll vanish from the world. It hasn’t worked so far, but my brain isn’t ready to give up any time soon.