Is there anything more dispiriting than finding an unwelcome guest has arrived unbidden on your doorstep and intends to stay for an unspecified but wholly unwanted length of time? Well, yes, there is, and it is when that guest represents a mental health condition you thought you’d beaten and the doorstep is inside your own mind and you realise that the control you thought you had over your life was temporary at best and completely illusory at worst.

All of which is to say – my OCD is back. For those of you who have not had the displeasure, OCD stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and it is an absolute arseache. Again, at best. Utterly debilitating and life-ruining at worst.

Mine began when I was six and accidentally drank weedkiller. My mother rushed me to the sink and my dad for

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