I’ve never been a morning person. Through good times and bad, whether I’ve been getting up in the dark to attend a job I hated or sleeping in late before a day of leisure, I’ve always found the first few moments of the day really unpleasant. I wake up feeling scared. I’m never quite sure of what. If my mind is a filing cabinet, I feel as if vandals get in at night, start opening all the drawers and throwing the important papers around. I wake feeling discombobulated; unsure of my ability to confront the future. There could be a scientific explanation to do with cortisone levels. Look it up if you like, I can’t be bothered. What difference would it make? I’ve been struggling like this since childhood. I’m past caring what the cause is; I just want a cure.

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Recently, I think I might have found one. For the past few weeks, I have started waking up feeling happy. When I hear the alarm, I fling back the covers almost immediately. I scuttle downstairs merrily to feed the pets and stick the kettle on. I open the blinds and smile into the sunlight. Sometimes, I even have a little whistle.

The cause of all this is not some fancy ‘optimisation ritual’ learnt from a weird alpha-male podcast. I’m not fasting or taking ice baths; I’m not muttering affirmations or scribbling out a gratitude journal. It’s more straightforward than all that: I’ve just got really, really into puzzles. Concise crosswords were the gateway drug. My wife has been a big fan for years; I have always teased her for being a nerd. Crosswords seemed a bit too spoddy for me. I had an idea of myself as a renegade who lives too fast and burns too bright for the gentle pleasures of word-based conundrums.

Like many washed up middle-aged men, I clung to a daft fantasy for a bit too long. The more I give in to reality – and accept that I am perhaps more Stephen Fry than Stephen Tyler – the more relaxed I seem to feel about life.

It’s a shamefully late realisation, I know, but there is huge satisfaction in making gradual progress as a result of continued practice. Who knew? I do The Times crossword each day, painstakingly stumbling through each clue in order and then repeating until the whole thing is complete, or near enough. Once I’m done, I am overwhelmed by a sense of self-satisfaction. It’s a bit like the quiet smugness I feel after a morning run, only less messy and undignified.

After a few weeks of crossword use, I started exploring other brainteasers: Wordle, connection puzzles, even a bit of Sudoku. I’m not exaggerating when I say they give me a thrilling little buzz. I think it must be the focus they demand; I’ve always enjoyed escaping into pastimes that block out all the troubling thoughts and chaotic feelings that swirl around inside me. There was a time when booze and drugs provided the escape, but that proved to be unsustainable. Video games sometimes do the job – but slouching in front of the telly playing a football management simulation doesn’t do much for your self respect.

Puzzles, on the other hand, are meditative yet improving; a distraction that both numbs and nourishes. I’m angry at myself for discovering their beauty so late in life. I’ve spent thousands on therapy over the years. I’m not sure puzzling necessarily helps me unpick the great conundrum of my life, but it has helped me to relax and shown me I am capable of progress.

Now, I don’t wake up thinking: ‘SHIT SHIT SHIT! WHERE AM I?! WHAT’S HAPPENING?! WHY IS LIFE SO INTIMIDATING?’ Instead, the first thing I think is: ‘Seize the day! Grasp the nettle! Call the cops! It’s time for another morning of puzzling!’

Read more from Sam Delaney here.

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Sort Your Head Out: Mental Health Without All the Bollocks by Sam Delaney is out now (Constable £18.99). You can buy it from The Big Issue shop on Bookshop.org, which helps to support The Big Issue and independent bookshops.

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Puzzles

How puzzles became the nourishing distraction that helps me face the day