is that it will always surprise you when the lows hit. A trip to the supermarket isn’t something that should cause panic but then suddenly caught between the avocados and an iceberg lettuce your world crumbles from beneath your feet, breathing is hard and you feel as though you’ll never reach the eggs let alone normal life.

Sitting watching a ballet this evening (something which would usually elate me), the strings section played the first chord from a Tchaikovsky melody and my friend had to put his arm around me because he knew how those resonating tones made me feel.

Likewise, the highs are just as funny because moments later, in a pool of tears and laughter, I felt joyous from watching people absorbed in their passion and completely in the moment.

I realise that my writing about this on here may seem strange. I do not wish to appear as though I am airing dirty laundry. It’s not an act of desperation, either. Rather this illness, as that is truly what it is, is something that I have never spoken about to anyone. I sit with mouth bound and ashamed which is no way to live a life and only serves to further hurtle you down a spiral of despair. So I write about it on here to say that if you feel the same way you are not alone and to remember that although it sucks it does provide you with some laughs sometimes.