I could never see the point of fishing, sitting down for hours on end staring at the water. It was something that never ever interested me but last summer my brother suggested we try it. Our first trip out we spent about 6 hours sitting in the rain drinking tea, eating Jaffa Cakes and catching nothing but a cold, I was absolutely hooked (excuse the pun) Every free day I had I was on the bank come rain or shine but soon that wasn’t enough. I work shifts so every other week I have my afternoons free so I was spending them on the bank too. My brother had commitments at home so I started going on my own a lot of the time. It was doing wonders for my confidence and was really helping me fight my depression. After having the winter off due to bereavement I have taken it back up again but it doesn’t feel the same. I no longer have that fishing buzz you get on the run-up to the weekend, every Friday used to feel like Christmas Eve. It’s almost like a relationship that’s gone stale and you’re just going through the motions. Maybe I’m sick of sitting on a public lake having to deal with wayward dogs and cocky little kids, maybe I’m bored of having to tie knots and unhook fish for other people or maybe I’m just worse than I was when I started fishing last year.