Have you ever had a period of time – a day, a week – where you feel absolutely rubbish? There’s no logic to it – the sun may be shining, you may have just been told something nice and positive (but you don’t believe it…), you may have something fun planned, yet you somehow can’t feel enthused. Your usually cheerful mood plummets. You feel completely pointless.

At first you don’t tell anyone, because you think the feeling will go away. No-one will understand. Besides, you’re smiling, so everyone else thinks there’s no problem.

The overthinking begins. Molehills become mountains. Insurmountable mountains. No-one else gets it, but you don’t ever see a way that things can be right again.

You bottle it up. Someone says something a bit unpleasant – they probably didn’t mean it – and you push it away, offer a grin and go and sit in another room and cry.

You feel the pits.

You test the water a bit- say something to someone, the slightest hint, hoping that they might pick up on how dreadful you feel, and they don’t. That proves it. Nobody cares. You’re not worth caring about.

You neglect yourself a bit. Forget to put a clean T-shirt on. You don’t look into the mirror – what’s the point? It’s only depressing. You offer that brave face again, but it’s getting harder to do. There are tears there sometimes and you don’t know why.

Everything suffers because you can’t concentrate. You’re tired. Work is tough. You feel crotchety, tearful, you push people away. Deadlines are impossible. Positivity goes out the window. It’s hard to be bothered.

And still, you grin and say you’re fine, so no-one knows how alone you feel.

How normal are you? Here’s the news. You’re absolutely, completely normal.

We all do it from time to time. We feel isolated, think that no-one will reach out. And we’re not surprised when they don’t.

Our health will always yo-yo, both mental and physical. If it’s physcal, you expect the odd cold, sore throat, leg ache. Our mental health and energy levels are the same. There are days where we could get up at dawn and run a few miles, no problem. There are days when getting out of bed is a mammoth effort. There are days when our appetite for life is boundless and days where we have no appetite for anything at all.

Our physical and mental health are not always consistent. There are times when we don’t feel strong. There are times when it all feels pointless.

What to do. Ah, there’s the rub.

Tell someone. Tell a few people. There are no prizes for hiding our feelings. We are not stronger if we man (or woman) up, whatever that means. It’s tough to open up. But start by saying, ‘I need some help.’ Or ‘Do you have a minute to chat?’ Pick someone you trust. I bet they know that pointless feeling too.

Don’t just think it’s you and blame yourself. It’s not. Don’t dive into that whirlpool of isolation and despair that makes you think you’re alone and no-one cares. There are too many people in the world for someone to feel lonely.

Tell yourself it’s temporary. Believe it. Hold your nerve. Things will get better, tomorrow, soon.

Make plans to spoil yourself. Treat yourself to something even if it’s only a cup of coffee and time to be kind to yourself. Make plans with other people. Visit someone for a chat. They probably want to share something with you too and reciprocity is a good healer.

Breathe. Relax. Do some yoga or meditation or physical exercise if you can. Hava a long soak in the bath, make yourself a special meal. Have half a bar of chocolate and a good book or film.

I often look at my biorhythm chart when I feel less than ideal. I don’t believe in biorhythms, but it’s uncanny how my three graphs swoop to the bottom when I feel awful. I look at the date when everything sweeps up again and tell myself, I’ll be ok soon.

Surround yourself with nice people who get you, who make you laugh.

Tell yourself it’s not forever, it will pass. If it doesn’t, or you feel desperate, talk to a GP. They will know how to help.

We have such high expectations of ourselves; we demand to be perfect and faultless, just like everyone else appears to be. Of course, that’s a big lie. They aren’t perfect. No-one is. We take it in turns to go up and down. We’ll be there for each other when we do. As the song goes, reach out – I’ll be there. It may be my turn next.

PS. It helps me to remember that someone may look smiling and still be feeling awful inside. They may look fine, but they’re depressed, anxious, troubled. So, next time I feel like honking a car horn impatiently, or being dismissive or negative, or not giving someone time, I think again. Being critical may hit a soft spot. Other people need us to be nice. We don’t know what’s going on inside.

It costs nothing and means the world…