A peat bog got me, yesterday.

Slowly sucking me under, marinating me in all its decay, a wet cake of depression grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go.

With all the meds I’m on for anxiety and panic, depression usually keeps its distance nowadays.

Not yesterday.

Yesterday, it festered and burped up all kind of noxious gases, disrupting every hour.

My mind is on a foul streak as of late. Hopefully, today, the old brain will keep itself out of trouble… and out of the bog.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe