Walking through the park in the first burst of spring sunshine on Wednesday I remembered how I felt two years ago as the nation was plunged into lockdown.
Frightened, panicky, pessimistic – and convinced that if the virus didn’t get me then the black dog of depression would certainly return to bite me.
But, over the next few weeks, I was able to manage the anxiety and low moods that normally herald a depressive episode by taking long walks amid the flowers and soaking in those uplifting rays.
