mostly david ephgrave

It's probably not surprising I feel largely devoid of comedy right now, what with all the difficult things going on within my family, but today has been a tough day when it comes to my mental health. One of depression's nastiest traits is its relentlessness, and its tendency to make you forget how far you've come when you're in a trough. It's evil like that. So it was for me today, and I would have kept this to myself instead of mentioning it here if I had the energy to filter it. But it took up too much of my day for me to feel able to do that. I'm not usually one for exhibiting the common symptom of lethargy, but I found it hard to lift my head today. I did get a brief hiatus when listening to my old band Big Day Out's 'Seven Heavenly Lemony Lemons from a Seven-Eleven in Devon' CD from 2002 for the first time in years. The recordings are by no means perfect, but I still enjoyed it, and it still made me laugh in the right places; we were definitel...

Tonight, I cashed in my first metaphorical therapy-dog-chips of the season. I should probably explain: I haven't literally turned my dog into fries and then attempted to barter by using them as a grisly form of currency; I'm pretty sure that would result in a prison sentence. But I did use him as a therapeutic aid after an argument left me overwrought and overloaded, and definitely felt the benefit, with my four-legged friend (the dog) gaining in the process. Sometimes, a breath of fresh air is the best cure for what ails you and a dog-walk is the perfect excuse for this. I usually take Elwood out in the morning for an hour while my wife's at work and she'll do the evening dog-shift (careful how you spell that) but today I took him out twice, and that second walk was just what the doctor - or vet - ordered. One of the biggest advantages to walking him in the evening is I get to see the night skies I'd otherwise miss, and this is particularly the case when I cros...

By rights, a show to four people (with one from the Comedy Awards panel) shouldn't be fun, but today’s was, as well as being possibly my favourite so far (although the first show probably got the most vocal reaction). Mere seconds before I was due to start, it looked like I’d either have to cancel or do the show one-on-one to the comedy awards’ judge, which isn’t something I’d do in any other instance and would only have done today if (1) he’d been comfortable with it and (2) couldn’t guarantee someone from the panel would be able to come another day. I was just asking his opinion when the other punters suddenly appeared and saved the day, and what made it even better was they'd paid for their tickets and weren’t brandishing the papering comps I'd instructed my flyerers to hand out…so that’s money in the bank (albeit only just double-figures). Such a small audience is a tough proposition, particularly when they chose to sit close enough to the stage to force me into a...

Today, my mood was sufficiently lightened by an exceptionally well-behaved dog on the bus. He was so quiet I hadn’t even realised he was there, despite being right next to me. His owner was on his mobile for the duration of the journey, but played with his dog’s ears and gave him a general fuss throughout; he clearly doted on him. It was just the thing to see on a dreary day. It never ceases to surprise me how much animals lift my mood, almost instantly. Even now as I write, my cat’s having a scratch and a stretch on my lap, having been there for hours. She’s such good company, particularly when I’m writing; she'll occasionally look at me strangely as I talk through my material, but having her there makes it feel less like work; they should put pets on the National Health. My cat knows my wife’s and my daily routine inside out, often picking up on signals we're barely aware we're giving. She’s an expert on what we do and al...

I went to my mum’s this afternoon to visit her cat while she’s away, which ended up being a nice mood-lifter after a pretty unproductive day. It’s funny how the simple act of spending time with a pet can be good way to clear your head and effectively press the reset button (go on: LAUGH ). I left for the village where my mum lives later than I’d intended, so was already stressed, but all it took was half an hour’s cat-fuss (as opposed to cat-fuzz) to undo some of my frustration at not using the day as I’d intended; it didn’t go completely, but things certainly improved. My mum’s cat is huge - he’s easily twice the length of my cat, though strangely has the same size head*, so I don’t know what’s going on there; perhaps he’s part-liger - and stupidly friendly. It took a while for him to pluck up the courage to sit next to me on the sofa (well, not so much pluck up courage as deem me acceptable to deign me with his presence) but once he did, he wa...

It may be blindingly obvious unless you’re not an animal lover, but having a cuddle with a cat can be very good for your mood. For the last few days I’ve been feeling a little defeated, which is a thought I’ve tried to not become to attached to, as the intensity of the last few weeks in Edinburgh will inevitably leave me drained and with my positivity frankly zapped (not to be confused with the musician who fronted the Mothers of Invention and had a similar name). My approach to this is as it was when I was in Scotland: to surround myself with things that I enjoy and give me a sense of normality, to not fill my day with too much, but to make sure I meditate regularly; usually once in the morning and once before bed. One thing I turn to to keep my mood on an even keel is to watch and listen to the programmes that make me laugh without fail; most recently Hancock’s Half Hour, The Simpsons, Peep Show and Everybody Loves Raymond. Of these four ...

I’m managing to still enjoy myself at the Fringe at this late stage, which feels like a triumph when I consider the emotional roller-coaster of some of my previous fringe experiences. That’s not to say I’m not tired, frustrated and often riddled with self-doubt, as this is all par-for-the-course. At point of writing I’ve only had one reviewer in - who came today in fact - and a nonplussed agent, and am starting to wonder if this might be my lot, but despite any perceived setbacks, my mood has been predominantly good; I’m still having fun performing and haven’t gone dead behind the eyes or resorted to phoning it in just yet, which is great when I know how susceptible to these things I can be. Staying well at the Fringe is delicate balancing act that can easily topple to wrong way if not kept gently in check. Even discussing it can feel like a risk. The trick for me has been to not take it too seriously and to keep the festival at arm’s length. I’m e...

It was a little daunting to arrive at my venue today to find the stone floor completely soaked, as a wise man once told me that water and electricity don’t mix; that or they mix all too successfully. I remember this being the case last year too, and I’m used to the slightly lax but inevitable Edinburgh Fringe attitude to health and safety, but while it’s most likely all will be fine, I’d sooner not turn my show into an exercise in snuff comedy, as that’s hardly a viable model for a sustainable career. It doesn’t help that apparently one of the last shows in the room uses a bubble machine and a hazer; surely neither are a very good idea in an entirely enclosed windowless stone wall-and-floored space. They usually have cleaners in first thing in the morning - and last year they had a dehumidifier too (decadence) - but based on the evidence they couldn’t have been in today; all we have to push the damp about this year is a single fan, which I moved ar...

I’ve hit a bit of a wall today, as regards my tiredness and my mood. My show went well this morning, despite the small audience. I shouldn’t begrudge their size, as I’m lucky to have them, when I’m up against such stiff competition. I arrived at the venue, feeling depressed and downcast, purely due to tiredness. As a result, I came off-stage after the show and pulled a face at my techie Fraser and said, “That was hard work,” to which he replied, “You’re joking, aren’t you? That was your best show yet.” This illustrates perfectly how much your mindset can colour and confuse your perspective of what you're doing.   After the gig, I went back to my digs for lunch and to tidy up a bit before my wife arrives tomorrow, and after eating, I promptly fell asleep. Thankfully, I had the foresight to set my alarm first, as I wouldn’t want to not wake up in time to tech Fraser’s show ( go and see it; it’s excellent ). Thankfully, my phone didn’t fail me - and so I’m now sitting i...

At the risk of sounding twee, I love all the blossom that’s about at the moment. (That’s right: I love every single bit of it .) When I walked into town today, I made the conscious decision to pay attention to it. I took a longer route in fact, through the cemetery, so I’d see more of it. There’s a vast multitude of colour around at this time of year, if you make an effort to look out for it – and on a sunny day like today it has even more impact; fields, gardens, parks and roadsides across the UK are awash with white, blue and pink. It lifts the mood, like a flora-based antidepressant (as in vegetation; not margarine.) There's a tree near my house that's in full bloom. It only ever lasts a week or so before the wind does away with it, but those few days are worth it. In life, sometimes the simplest things are the best. I'll be off now to skip and dance around it; I knew I shouldn’t have smoked that jazz cigarette.

I’ve got into the habit of playing a handful of YouTube clips of songs that put me in a good mood, when I’m in the bath in the morning. This is not without risk. I keep my mobile on the window ledge above the bath: reaching up to it with the driest hand that I can muster, to switch from one clip to another. It’s my personal take on an extreme sport. If only there were other ways I could do it, such as listening to a playlist I’d set up in advance or - God forbid - an ALBUM, there’d be less chance of me making an insurance claim in the near future. What can I say? I like to live dangerously. The music I choose tends to go around in cycles. I’ll listen to the same few songs for a week or two, then move on to something else. I’m quite careful about my selections, never wanting to play anything so maudlin that it makes me want to slip my head below the surface. I’m like the priest in Father Ted who listens to the Theme from Shaft to lift himself from depression, without the co...