Yesterday I was at the beach doing my most favourite things - walking along the sand and paddling with dogs.
Today, well, not so much. Back into it with a seven-hour mental health first aid course - and that's just day one. There's a second day next week.
If I wasn't feeling depressed before seven hours discussing depression, anxiety. psychosis and suicide was more than enough.
This may sound flippant but running through scenarios about what to do if you think a colleague may be contemplating suicide is pretty full on.
There should be therapy dogs on hand. Next time I might volunteer to take mine.
At lunch time I needed a break so went and found myself in the community garden near the campus looking at bees.
I find watching bees strangely hypnotic and relaxing. It's not exactly being at the beach with dogs but beggars can't be choosers.
And then back to training. I found myself thinking of the novel Catch 22. To borrow from Joseph Heller. If one is crazy, one does not have to attend the mental health first aid training but you'd have to be crazy to attend. To apply to be excused demonstrates you are sane so you have to go. So basically there is no escape. Crazy isn't it?
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