I’ve had a sabbatical from here of late. Well without checking, since August. I’ve been hard at work, sometimes. Once I did feel a little guilty when my monthly bursary came in, “What would the taxpayer think if they knew I wasn’t productive for even 50% of the past month, let alone a week?” then I realised it’s me who’s made a significant sacrifice. Saying that, I’ve definitely felt a lull in motivation over the past eight or so months, which one couldn’t combat in the real world by refusing to cogitate or even do mundane tasks in it. Whilst working towards my MPhil to PhD transfer, of course- doubting my own critical thought or even self-worth. Lets get it right, I’ve been depressed. Trouble was I didn’t realise I was depressed until I’d been depressed for a significant portion of the time spent. Despite me knowing the signs. I guess I wasn’t spending long enough with anyone (or the right people) in order for them to ask (wallflower side affect?) “What’s up?” but fortunately Christmas came around and it was only then, when taking a week off from working, or trying; that my brain farted out to myself. “You’re depressed!” Identifying a cause is simple, I’m…