It feels like it is stuck there and it burns. My sertraline tablet. I take another swallow of water from my bottle and try and ease the remainder of the burn with my finger across my chest, massaging it slowly, carefully.
Happy cheers and smiles pass me by from men sitting on bicycles. Mothers pushing along empty prams as their children run ahead of them in a gleeful fashion, every now and again turning back to grin at their mothers as they keep pace with another child. And finally, couples hand in hand, pointing out the way the coast bends into Canary Wharf ever so slightly like a lopsided chuckle.
I feel as if everyone is out today, at least, a lot more people than usual. This made sense considering the sudden change in weather with the suns beautiful glittering glory gracing us as it must – quite suddenly and without cause. It was a great change from the usual – a gloomy and cold London, only ever covered from head to toe with blankets of rain. That is part of the reason why I’m out now, enjoying it as I know it won’t last long.
And also because I am just upset today. Tired and a little fragile because everything feels empty despite all this beauty around me. Depression has hit me once again and I needed to get out of my house before I spent all day in bed. I won’t spend all day in bed. I could never. Never again.
So I’m here instead, soaking up the warmth. Invisible to all but the vast space of water that lays in front of me.
It is the only thing that makes a change to how I am feeling.