Rob Golledge: Believe it or not there's a lot of nonsense going on out there

I had finally been struck by an intervention I had been trying to avoid all my adult life.

Man flu.

That's right, the mythical and potentially fatal conqueror of men. It's real – and it's an unholy experience.

This time last week the initial signs started to show. I had developed a mild sniffle, irritating but manageable.

But within 24 hours I was bedridden and delirious.

A mass of snot, sweat, and sneezes had overcome my body. I could see the light. The end was nigh.

Surely this was not how it was meant to end?

I started to reassess every last facet of my life.

Had I made the most of it? Probably not.

Had I been to all the places I wanted to go? No.

Had I achieved all the things I wanted to achieve. Not a chance.

Just what had I been playing at?

Growing up I had dreams of being an explorer, venturing across the treacherous Antarctic to see the bottom of the world, climbing the sky-high Andes to touch the Heavens, and kayaking down the Zambezi to marvel at the planet's natural beauty.

Could I even one day make it into space? And what about the things I should be doing? Shouldn't I be driving a faster nicer car? Shouldn't I be earning more? Have a bigger house?

A better looking girlfriend? I told you I was delirious, or at least that's what she told me.

Was I even competing in the league of Facebook boasts?

Lethargic, lacklustre, and pathetic, I sunk into the deepest of slumbers.

Then a miracle happened. When I awoke some 11 hours later I had been cured.

All was good in the world.

My man flu had evaporated and my troubles torpedoed.

Who would have thought it?

Pah, it's a load of stuff and nonsense.

It's amazing how the mind works when you're feeling vulnerable.

No wonder so many people seek comfort in a greater being on their death beds.

Modern life seems peppered with these emotional peaks and troughs.

One day you can be self-loathing, the next you can be self-indulgent.

You can go from feeling like David Cameron on June 24 to Donald Trump on November 8 at the click of your fingers.

In this vainglorious Instagram era where everyone is expected to live a Champagne lifestyle and everything is rosy, it's easy to lose a sense of reality.

Expectation is an evil. We feel like our every move is being judged. And we feel like failures.

But why should we pander to these people? Who cares what others think? What right do they have to comment on your life?

These are the same people who lap up fake news of social networks while wilfully ignoring, and in some cases condemning, traditional, respected, and bonafide media outlets.

For example, last week a completely made-up person was chosen as the second-most widely recognised Welsh representative in the European Parliament.

Yes, a fictitious being – Elwyn Davies – came second only to UKIP MEP Nathan Hill in name recognition.

Professor Roger Scully, principal investigator, said: "It's difficult to know what to say about some of these results."

No it's not. People are idiots.

A friend of mine lives by the maxim that if you think the worst of people then you spend most of the time being pleasantly surprised.

It sounds morbid but doesn't he have a point?

We lock our doors at night for fear someone will burgle us. Many people won't go outside at night in case they are robbed.

And how many of us won't give our spare change to street beggars because we think they may be con men or drug addicts?

Social media has created a new echo chamber and an environment that can instil self doubt among the most confident of us. Don't be suckered in.

Even someone who professes to go to the gym every day will actually also indulge in a Double Decker or two.

And what has all this got to do with man flu you might (rightly) ask?

Well, a lot.

Just like man flu, there is an abundance of nonsense in the world. There is probably more utter rubbish spouted now than at any time in history.

From crackpot theories, conspiracies and conjecture, to so-called post-truth politics.

It was once said of the Press that you shouldn't start a fight with anyone who buys ink by the barrel.

That saying has fallen by the wayside.

Any keyboard warrior can now send reverberations around the world. We are all publishers now. And that has to be worrying.

Who are we to believe?

And that only reinforces my friend's belief to think the worst of everyone. It is cynical – but we live in cynical times.

It's why things like man flu get such mileage in one corner but are widely lampooned by others.

Only yesterday, I was reading an article in a magazine about the aforementioned phenomena that affects thousands of British men every year.

On my newfound high horse I sneered at the headline 'It's real: man flu really does exist'.

"Scientists have found that women really do have stronger immune systems than men, meaning 'man-flu' actually exists," it read.

Intrigued, I carried on reading.

"Their weaker bodies can't cope with bugs that a woman's more powerful immune system could shrug off, a study suggests."

To my amazement it revealed that higher levels of oestrogen in women's bodies actually makes their immune systems tougher and minimises the impact of a cold or winter virus.

Aaaahhhhhhh!

Just who exactly are we supposed to believe?