Good things happen, bad things happen. In January 2019 I had something very bad happen. Perhaps it was for a good reason. I don’t know. I can’t remember. On the 8th of January (I think) I was admitted to St Mungo’s. I spent 3 weeks in a high dependency unit because I had lost my memory. I knew nothing. Not even my name. I remember people kept asking me my name and age and I thought how strange it was for them to ask those sorts of things. All I wanted was to go HOME.

I can’t even tell you exactly what happened now because I still don’t know. I know who I am, what I am and sometimes I get what I call “memory flashbacks”. They are irritating sometimes but you have to deal with them.

I have an idea of what happened, but that is my own, private story. I don’t want or need others to know any of that. The problem is getting back to where I need to be when you don’t remember where that was. It’s ok. I’ll find out. That is why I am doing so my writing. It is the point of it all. For the first time in a very long time I feel normal, like myself. I’m writing down everything that I can remember. The people that mean the most to me the events that shaped my life. I know they don’t mean much to you, but to me it means everything.