Hello, friendlings and/or people I’m only still friends with on Facebook because you post bang tidy strong memes. I’m going to chuck you right into this blog post: I've just forced myself to go on antidepressants. Whoa! I ain’t gonna bore you with the origin story of my mental woes, mostly because I’m saving it all until whoever directed the latest Guardians of the Galaxy decides he fancies bringing my brain to the big screen. Nah, I’m gonna chuck you straight into the – deep end? I mean, I want to say ‘deep end’, but in reality my depression is essentially just me floating around in a Frozen -themed paddling pool and occasionally nearly drowning in a centimetre of water like an inept toddler. I suppose that’s the tricky thing about depression, really. For most of those reading this, you’re gonna be like, “Wait, what? How on earth can she have depression when I can clearly remember her smiling approximately seven months ago?” That’s just it, really. My depress...