It’s the middle of the night and I sit up choking. I’m drowning, as thoughts flood my mind. Waking, drenched in perspiration, and in a state of panic, I gasp for breath. I’m momentarily reliving the moment a ligature tightens around my neck, slowly squeezing life from me.
As I sink into unconsciousness, I’m discovered by a nurse. The incident has been filed in the deep recesses of my mind. It is not something I choose to readily recall, and which I have never publicly shared. I surmise you may understand why.
It was when I had become so unwell that I had been admitted to a secure psychiatric ward to keep me safe, and to help me recover. Ironically it did neither. And it is a place, and a time, I have vowed I will never, ever, go back to – I will do whatever I have…
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