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Things are pretty good for me. Lots of people care about me and it seems to me that when I spend time with them I like myself a little more. I even had a moment of actually appreciating how I look. Some of my fears about the future have started to seem more manageable and navigable, and I've had a pretty good day today, organising for a day's walking in the Peak District next weekend and lounging around before watching what was a pretty exciting Italian Grand Prix.

And so why do I find myself suddenly feeling slightly low and on the verge of tears? There's nothing to sadden me, I'm sitting in the summerhouse with the laptop and the new bureau I rescued from Ravensworth Gardens. It's a lovely afternoon. And yet there are tears welling up and something catching at the back of my throat.

I've taken antidepressants as usual, per schedule, and similarly hormones. Whyyyyyyy.