The weekend of 15 août, a weekend to strike fear and loathing into the hearts of motorists. I didn’t know this at the time, my first summer road trip in France. It only took me half an hour to come to understand it, to begin to feel that fury myself.
Since my diagnosis, life has gotten a lot easier. When I feel the blues taking hold I don’t need Prozac, I need Paris and my mind takes me there. I become light as a feather and I find myself able to nibble a bit of cheese without guilt and a glass of good burgundy makes me almost giddy!