I said on Friday that I was gonna have a better weekend than everyone else. This included everyone in the known universe.
This weekend I achieved nothing. I drove 120 miles away. This is not an achievement it's a drive. I then had the best weekend ever. Nothing massively exciting in terms of exciting weekends happened. I didn't bungee jump or go white water rafting. But I was so happy and content in an orange aero bubble away from the real world just for a little bit.
I met some awesome people whilst on my adventure. And I wanna give a big hello to the guy that stared at me the whole of Friday night, the guy that insisted I should have one of his beers continuously on Saturday night and the girl that shouldn't have been there as she should have been telling lies at weight watchers.
Saturday was st Patrick's day as you all probably know. It caused strange scenes of girls with very little clothes on and boys wearing green v necks. Oh and of course the hilarious guiness hats. It's a strange ritual that the British undertake once a year; getting utterly smashed out of their face to celebrate one of the more well know patron saints of Ireland.
Sunday morning came with he joyous news that my boy Jenson had won in Melbourne. I have a good feeling for him this season. But, that short walk back to the car made my heart sink cos heading back to reality is always hard.
So I drove 120 miles back home drinking lots of redbull and singing along to the songs on kerrang. It's not a sad story though. It's a happy story...
Cognitive behavioural therapy tells us that depression can be cured. I am
Not destined to a lifetime of tablets. My technique for interrupting ruminative thinking is when I catch myself lost deep in thought is to change the subject. Think of them moments when you truly felt safe and secure. They may be fleeting but they exist and they can be a more permanent fixture .
So I had a great weekend. I am sure you lot have them all the time. But this time mine was better.
Kisses and Jaffa cakes. X