It has only just been pointed out to me that I was also given a book for Christmas called “The God of Small Things” by Arundhati Roy which was an unexpected pleasure to receive. I have far too much to read now, so I must try and timetable myself to ensure I get plenty done. It made me realise how much I used to enjoy my reading time on the train to and from London every day. In spite of all the smells and delays and expense, it did give me around three hours a day reading time, and looking at my bookshelf it takes me back to those times very quickly. I had a conversation with my Aunt this weekend, who told me about one of her neighbours who was suffering from depression. I was raised in part by my Aunt, and depression used to be looked down upon as an excuse for people to have a good wallow. In fact the phrase “What has he/she got to be depressed about?” was regularly heard. I was surprised therefore to hear that my Aunt was so understanding of this poor soul who was suffering from depression, and had in fact invited her in to offer a shoulder to cry on. It turned out that the woman was lonely, and had fallen out with her daughter. My Aunt said that she felt that the woman needed to get herself a couple of books and sit down and have a read, and that would “Snap her out of it”. I replied rather despairingly that depression was not something you just snapped out of, and was firmly put in my place as my Aunt explained what she meant. Having been alone now since her Father died, she suffers from bouts of depression herself, and has found solace in fiction as a means to escape from her existence. This rather moved me, as I had always known her to be a woman who was poorly read, in fact I always suspected some sort of learning difficulty. She has however discovered a love for a good yarn in later life, and now regularly reads as a means of escape and enjoyment, and all power to her for that. I miss that escape that I used to get each day on the train. What I was escaping from is perhaps another matter for another day, but it surprised me that two people so far apart in many ways were using the same coping strategy.
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