My head is like jelly at the moment. I can't read a thing. I look at a novel and can take in no more than half a paragraph before I have to put it down. My Ali Smith has been put to one side, though I really was enjoying it. My book cases groan under the weight of unread books (several more I bought this week, too). This is the worst fate that could befall a voracious reader!
I know these phases which come attached to depression and know just to ride them out. Head will be returned intact, eventually. Meanwhile I clean out cupboards and dejunk my life of all it doesn't need. And make a note be kind to myself.
Writing helps for sure. (Though my head can't focus on the things it is supposed to.)
And so does poetry. Poems are short and slip down easily, and I have a hunger for them right now.
My book of the moment, Out of Fashion edited by Carol Ann Duffy. Duffy has invited contemporary poets to choose their favourite poems about how we dress (or undress!) and then to contribute their own poems on the topic. Great fun - and a must-read for all fashion victims.