Over on Hydragenic, Stuart’s got the Black Dog visiting him. I like his description of what is always a very hard thing to describe:
This time it’s been such a small, yappy one that I’ve hardly noticed it nipping at my heels. I thought I saw it scuttling around earlier on in February, but when I looked more closely it had disappeared and I put it down to a trick of the light. Now I realise that it’s been there all along, with its stupid, slobbering tongue and its vacuous, infantile grin.“Woof,” it’s saying, “throw your stick-like issues as far as you possibly can, but I’ll be bringing them back to you. Plan your eight hours of sleep, but I’ll be waking you at 5am all the same. Cosy night in front of the fire? Oh no, it’s blowing a Gale Force 9 out there and we need to go for a walk, mister.”
What’s kind of dog is your black dog?
I’ve just spotted the fact that your life change involves an organisation called WWOOF :-)
ROFL and all that. Nice one!
Black dog? For me it’s more like the numerous puppies produced by the black dog :
“What? You want to leave the house to go shopping? Well, I’m sitting in front of the door to stop you going out.”
“Want to use the phone to call a plumber? Dare go near the phone and I will laugh at you until you retreat. Ha ha ha!2
“What do you mean ‘write something’? Little do you know that I have control of your PC’s keyboard making sure you can’t do anything except post facetious messages on uk.people.support.depression. Yes, I will make sure that everyone will laugh at you”
Big as a Great Dane, black as blindness, even down to the eyes and teeth, standing in the corner so still you don’t notice it till it’s been there so long you know it’s not going to be going anywhere, because its business is to be there, and stare, and make you scared, and once you’ve seen it your eyes keep catching on it, and after a while you can’t do anything but crouch and stare back, anticipating attack.