It is August 2024, and my Tourette’s Syndrome (TS) – always worse in the claustrophobic heat of summer – has become unbearably intrusive , with perpetual tremors and tensions anchoring my mood.

At the same time, mounting stress and anxiety – mainly from pressures at work – had led to a diagnosis of first high blood pressure , then depression and, finally, moderate to severe ADHD .

And my usual defence, a finely tuned but exhausting ‘masking’ – the physical suppression of tics – is failing me. My usual bullet-proof resilience is weakening under this strain.

I wasn’t diagnosed with TS until I was 32 years old – 22 years ago. From what I remember, seeking a diagnosis was influenced by a documentary about footballer Paul Gascoigne , although my memory is a little

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