In which our protagonist sheepishly admits that yes, she did miss an episode
In which our protagonist reads a self-help book that really doesn’t help anyone
In which our protagonist realises the needle is stuck
In which our protagonist struggles with the interaction between self-care and world-care
In which our protagonist’s inner activist awakens and contemplates what really matters (in a very rambling manner, for which she apologises)
In which our protagonist realises sabbaticals can’t last forever
In which our protagonist faces the past of mental health, and plots a better future
In which our protagonist recognises she has chosen fear way too much
In which our protagonist begins to emerge from the trance and gets ready for the infinite abyss
In which our protagonist sees meaning and symbolism where it probably doesn’t exist
In which our protagonist realises the route to recovery is a wiggly-waggly one
In which our protagonist greets the Solstice and the longest day with optimism for the future