My doctor put me on Seratonin about fifteen years ago. I had had armed robbers tie me up in my own house, our family firm had gone through and my father had died all within a short space of time, and I thought I was depressed. Seratonin induces the production of endorphins, which are the hormone (or chemical) that is credited with creating happy feelings in the brain.
I was rather ashamed that the doctor thought I couldn’t cope on my own, but after a few days, I told the half a dozen friends I drank with in the local pub.
“I thought you were already on them”, said one, “we all are and our wives… and most of our friends. Great, aren’t they? I look forward to my happy pill every morning!”
I had never heard of them before, but it seemed that I was the last to know.
I stopped taking them after a week, and a television documentary appeared a few days after that condemning them.
Anyway, the feeling that the Seratonin gave me is what I feel now – a slight buzz of happiness even when it is irrational.
I am happy to be going to Spain next week, but I am no longer under the illusion that being there will solve all our problems, which is what I did think last May.
Spain is/was supposed to be our springboard back into the UK, but it is far from as easy as the rulebook says it is, or as I thought it would be.
And then there’s Brexit. That could put the mockers on my wife getting into the UK completely. If Brexit puts a block on my taking my wife to the UK to live, she will need a sponsor. However, I have lost touch with all my friends after being in Thailand for thirteen years, and my I can’t rely on my family to help.
We will get to Spain, but there is a dark cloud hanging over the future further ahead than that.
If you have any suggestions, please let me know – we’re desperate.
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All the best,
PS: there are probably errors in relation to Seratonin (serotonin) in this piece, but the basic message is the same.