And it makes you think. Even things that have been the same for years and years can change. Maybe I can change. I can bring my own wall down, and let people in.

I want to save the world but I haven't worked out a way to save myself yet.

Desire to be thin grows bigger and bigger. As does my appetite.

And that will be on my medical records for ever.Everyone will always know I’m a nutter. Behavioural problems. I’m just a bloody label…A label written on a white board in a single room without a radio, in a place where everyone else was at least 20 years older than me. Can’t think about it. It’s anger that goes nowhere.

I’m so NUMB. I just don’t care, it seems-but I must do. This is all going to sound totally incoherent. I’m that bunged up, but totally empty. I think my worries about who I am have reached a head.I mean who is Rae Earl? I think I know myself, but then other people say things.

I laughed it off but I close the bedroom door and I lose it and I stick it all down here and this is where it all stays. And this is where it has to stay because I am not ending up in the nutter ward again with brown walls, jigsaws, and people crying that their husbands left them, and men slamming their heads against walls, and Mum bringing me a mini trifle and a copy of Smash Hits like that would make everything better. It didn’t. It won’t. It can’t. Psychiatric wards when most of my mates were….I can’t tell anyone what is going on…Can’t write…Can’t think about it.Not even here.