The big black dog

big black dog

This week’s blog is pure self-indulgence sorry.

I also apologise for the melancholy nature of the post.

I live with depression and usually it is very well managed and doesn’t really impact upon my life.

But this week I’ve been ambushed with an attack of depression; the ferocity of which has taken me by surprise.

I haven’t had a bout like this for many years.

Not only has it affected my mood, my sleep and relationships, it has pervaded all parts of my life. I even got sent to the Head Mistresses’ Office at work yesterday – after 33 years of work this is a first for me.

Thankfully, I’ve now chosen to recognise my warning signs and I am putting in some strategies to overcome this little episode. Give me a week or two – and after a few apologies – I will be right as rain and fair dinkum crack-a-lacking again.

But this week has reminded how my big black dog should not be ignored because his bite is definitely worse than his bark.

The following poem is not very good – however, its an important part of my strategy to move toward wellness, and just thinking about its composition has already improved my mood. For those of you who also live with depression – hang tight and I’ll send my hose over as soon as I’ve finished with it!

The Big Black Dog  

I’ve been hearing his bark for a while now

Calling at me from behind the rickety back yard fence

I’ve tried to ignore him

But at night the noise stops me sleeping

And when I do sleep

Nightmares pervade my rest

(I mean c’mon being rogered by Jeremy Clarkson – what’s that about?)

That fucking big black dog

Always there or there abouts

He’s been following me around for years now

And no matter where I move too

No matter where I go

He eventually catches up with me.

This week the bastard attacked me

I should have seen it coming

Should have heard his charge

But I had my back turned

I was immersed in avoidance, wearing headphones of ignorance

Don’t you dare ignore me he growled

Saliva drooling from his dirty fangs

Then he took a big vicious bite out of my arse

And now he’s laughing at my torn pants

hanging on the line

That fucking dog

But today I’m fighting back

Where’s the bloody garden hose?

I’m going to squirt that big black fucker

and tell him where to go

I’ll grab his throat and ring his neck

And eventually he’ll scuttle and whimper away

Just like he always does

But only to the neighbours on the other side

And then he’ll start barking again

slowly and softly at first

just within audible range

God I wish I could really kill that dog.

man with hose

3 thoughts on “The big black dog

  1. Hang in there Roly I hope you feel better soon. Do you find that being outdoors helps you? I love being outdoors there is something about the sunshine, fresh air and just nature in general that allows me to catch my breath when I am feeling down.

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    • Hi Sonya – thank you – yes, being outside helps so much, it makes me feel grounded and connected. over a period of time, I have simply made the classic mistake of forgetting what makes me feel good. So tomorrow, I am going to a secret glade and try and catch (and release a trout – such a woss) (I think I would have held my self at the Alamo – but have been rubbish at the food gathering). I really d0 appreciate your concern – thank you

      Liked by 1 person

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