Day one

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

Did the first injection in the bathroom with the door locked, then sat on the edge of the bath for twenty minutes.

Nothing has happened yet, which nobody had warned me about. I think I expected to feel something immediately, and instead I made a cup of tea and put a wash on.

So. First one done. I had been carrying the box around the house for four days like it was something I had borrowed and needed to give back, and in the end I did it standing up in the kitchen with the radio on.

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

That is all for tonight.