Have spent the last ummm.... month and a bit back in Prangins. There are many advantages to being in a psychiatric hospital when you are depressed - the round the clock nurses on call, the weekly meetings with your psychiatrist, the structured activities (ergothérapie! I've missed doing you so much...), the chance to look around in the dining room and realise that, actually, there are people in here a lot worse off than you... but sadly the idea of internet access has not quite caught on. It's like going cold turkey - no e-mails, no Facebook, no blogging, no English Forum... argh!
Seem to be slowly crawling out of the pit again, but still ploughing through the 'long, difficult task' of sorting myself out. Some days are good, some days a little bit harder (I know that's from a song, but I can't for the life of me remember which one). I've been able to see Fluffy, the little black and white cat who haunts the hospital grounds and eats cat food faster than any other cat I've known (and this, considering that Tabitha was on a diet for over a year because she was so fat, is saying something). And I have started lots of lovely craft projects and Christmas presents - talk about planning ahead.
While I was in hospital my copy of the 2011 Writers' and Artists' Yearbook came through, so I devoted many hours to devouring it and even more to carefully crafting a synopsis and cover letter, both of which have been put to use in a submission to the Caroline Sheldon Literary Agency - eek! The website says they aim to respond within four weeks, so I shall be anxiously checking e-mails every time I get leave.
Well today's leave was for laundry, so I'd better go and get some out of the machine!
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