Standing in the kitchen

Well then.

I told one person. Not my mother, not work. One person, and only because she asked me a direct question at the right moment.

A first entry about hypocrisy.

The leaflet is nine pages and about seven of them are worst cases. I have read it three times, which was three times too many, and I am now going to stop reading it.

What I keep coming back to is how long it took me to get here. Not the medication — the asking. Years of that.

Day one. I am writing this partly because somebody else's day-one entry is the reason I felt able to do it at all, and it seems only fair to leave one behind.

Physician, heal thyself.