This winter is flipping endless. Today I forced myself out for a run/stumble to the park. Running on frosty pavements was a new one on me and not an altogether pleasant one. I tiptoed like a fool on any kind of slope and couldn’t catch my breath because of the biting cold. It’s a good job I don’t smoke. The only good thing about running in the freezing cold is that there are very few other people about to see me in my ridiculous lycra running hat.

I’m trying to run a bit to combat the stomach churning low mood I’m experiencing this year. I’m usually fine once Christmas has been and gone – ready for the new year – but this year I’m walking through treacle. Then eating everything I can find that’s made out of it.

This is my annual mental health blog entry, which I hope in itself shows I’m turning a bit of a corner, because up until now I haven’t written anything in a long while. I always write something about being low in the spirit of talking about mental health, not as a cry for help.

My symptoms (in addition to the constant stomach anxiety) include sleeping a lot, crying a fair bit, over analysing everything and general inertia. I’m distressed when no-one contacts me while at the same time not actually wanting to go anywhere or see anyone. I have my regular meagre timetable which I stick to – yoga and a friend on Monday, run on a Tuesday, work Wednesday and Thursday – but the bits in between have been pretty mindless. I actually found myself watching Kavos Ink one evening.

I keep checking social media and the BBC news which makes everything worse, for obvious reasons.

I know, though, that it’s important to try and focus on the good things, which this last week have included cuddling my friend’s tiny baby, talking to my friend who is exceptional at hugs, watching my husband in awe as he is focused and positive, watching Finding Dory with my family and the tulips on my windowsill. I’m back to writing down my positives each day and, you know what, it’s very nearly not January anymore.