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When I do scrape enough pennies and lint together to take a trip, it's usually in July. I'm afflicted by a bizarre reversal of the classic seasonal affective disorder that often strikes people down with depression in winter. The summer is my depressive season, and by the time July rolls around with its oppressive sunniness and inhumane humidity, I鈥檓 usually swaddled in the shadows of despair. So I'm in no mood whatsoever to be taunted by the carefree laughter of half-dressed gits, infinitely happier than I. But I'm imbued with the adventurer spirit so I cram sunglasses, passport, flip flops, antipsychotic medication, social worker's phone number etc. into a battered suitcase, and off I jaunt.

Holidays are, by their nature, breaks away from normal life, unless your normal life involves room service. But as well as having a hotel door for 鈥淒o Not Disturb鈥�, they should also give you one to hang up which says 鈥淯NDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES MUST YOU BE DEPRESSED OR IN ANY WAY MOROSE OR STRANGE鈥�. The rules dictate that you must be happy. And as we often go on holiday with families, lovers or friends, the pressure to be happy is more acute than in our ordinary lives, where we have our favourite corners to hide away in if need be.

On top of this, the hedonism of holidays can pose a bit of a dilemma for some people with mental health problems because we need the ability to employ a staggering degree of self-awareness to get by. When this fails, for whatever reason, we rely on being watched by those around us.

There are medications to (forget) to take, appointments to attend, sleep to catch, jobs to go to (or not), alcohol to (sort of) avoid and so on and on and bloomin' on. In general, in order to not be tutted at by your doctor, you have to behave.

Routine, coupled with avoiding stress, is often cited as being one of the best lifestyle adjustments you can make if you suffer from mental illness. Unfortunately, routine tends to wave cheerily at you from the skidding tarmac of the airport runway as you leave for your well earned break. There's late nights, early mornings, excess drinking, eating out, people to see, ruins to visit, crabs to eat and starry-eyed sighing to be done. The little things, like taking care of yourself and being well behaved, tend to fall by the wayside somewhat.

I try to deal with going on holiday without going mad by being mindful of, but relaxing, the self-imposed rules I abide by in order to manage my health. So if I miss a dose of medication, it鈥檚 not the end of the world, but I make sure I take the next one. If I feel a
little low or anxious, I let whomever I鈥檓 with know in a gentle way, so I don鈥檛 sit in silence feeling terribly guilty and forcing a rictus grin.

I attempt, with varying degrees of success, to abandon all my worries before leaving home. I drink if I feel like doing so, eat a little more than I usually would, and try to embrace this break from my day to day reality - even if it鈥檚 just being amused by the different regional news programmes on TV in the hotel room.

Maybe the best way to deal with holiday stress is to throw yourself into your days away as much as you can, whether it鈥檚 a relaxing short break or a wild week. But if you don鈥檛 feel able to, there鈥檚 no point in being hard on yourself.

Looking out at the grey slate sky of this mostly disappointing summer, I鈥檓 considering having a rummage down the sofa cushions to see if I can manage a weekend in Weston-Super-Mare. Alas, probably not. If you鈥檙e off on holiday, enjoy yourself, smug in the knowledge that people like me are getting carpal tunnel syndrome from refreshing 成人快手 Weather every fifteen seconds in the vain hope that staying at home this year will pay off.