‘The Fugue’ i. When I seriously began writing, I just as seriously believed that by the age of thirty I would’ve made it. I didn’t have the same pretensions (or delusions) I had as a kid that I would have had a best-seller, but I thought writing would’ve forged a career for me. I never imagined I would still be living in my parents’ house, living in a carefully maintained safe environment, and not having accomplished very much. They say with puppies never to discipline them by smacking them on the muzzle because they become ‘hand shy’, and when you go to pat them on the head they’ll shy away…

‘Shut In’ viii. The first time I’d come out of major issues with anxiety and depression, it was with a sense of triumph and liberation. I was free. It was like overcoming an illness, and putting it behind me forever. Of course, I was only twenty-one, so I was still at an age where I had a sense of invulnerability about my health, and the prospect of my future was new and exciting. I didn’t feel that this time. This time, there was a sense of tentativeness, to come back out into the world and yet have this hang over my head, an unwanted visitor who could strike again. You…