I’m currently watching snooker obsessively. Why? Because I’m undergoing the most hardcore bout of depression I’ve experienced in about six or more years.
Can snooker save my life? I don’t know, to be honest. But I’m just glad it exists. Why does it provide such succour? I really don’t know. Again, I’m just glad it does.
Today I’ve been bingeing on several mammoth snooker fests. One was the absolute classic, Higgins vs. Williams, at the 2018 World Championship. That was a real belter, no mistake. And watching it silenced the incessant self-destructive mental monologue that plagues me.
Depression and insomnia are an unhappily married couple. And the fuckers are visiting me daily and nightly. Snooker somehow helps screen out their incessant chatter.