
THE A WORD It’s 6.47am. I hear Will calling my name. There are two types of people in the world – those who get up immediately after their alarm sounds (like Will) and people who hit snooze 15 times (like me). But this time it’s not that. I hear Will’s voice again, clearer this time, “Wake up, bluebean, we’re going to be late.” But I’m up. I’m sitting up. I’m wide awake. But I can’t move. My legs feel frozen solid. I haven’t received an official diagnosis from my doctor but I am 100% certain that I suffer from anxiety. It’s back. And this attack is a bad one. They say the human brain has 60 000 thoughts per day, I’m not too sure how true that, but right now I feel as if I am processing all of them at once. My mind feels like a spinning roulette wheel. I look down at my hands and they’re soaking wet. I look to check if I’ve spilled my coffee. There’s no cup beside my bed. At some point Lily comes to cuddle next to me. I didn’t notice her come in bu...