I have known I am more or less manic depressive for years, the whole family were, although age seems to be lessening the swings. I also now know I am autistic.

Thinking about it today I reckon it is better for me to have short but intense bouts of depression (as long as no harm is done) than long, drawn out days with anger and sell loathing feeding each other.

So yesterday’s struggle to do anything beyond eating and injecting should see me more cheerful for a goodly while.