Yes, the darkness comes, but then it goes. The unprompted (?) exhaustion, the rage and the paranoia grip me from time to time. But still, it felt like the right time to come off the meds.

It’s June. The sun is out. I’ve been wearing shorts. I go outside with people who love me, and I love them too. The price of beer at the Barbican may be genuinely enraging but it’s not enough to steal my contentment.

And then I find myself in the tunnels, taking the Tube somewhere, I don’t know. It gets crowded and I remember the fear I once had that I would die in a crush. The fear would become physical and I’d grip the railings, holding on for dear life, hoping for the vertigo to go.

It was a fear I once had. Not now, though, no. If my old fears are realised and I die in these tunnels, then fine. So be it. I’m happy with what I’ve done on this planet, and these tunnels are mine.