I was extremely worried. What would happen to me now that they knew that I had lost my mind? Would they put me in a padded cell and feed me through a hatch door? Would I end up in one of those places that you hear about, where people go in but never come out?

I didn't feel very lucky. Why me, I kept asking myself. Why had this happened to me?

I wished that I had died, it would have been better for everyone

I would need an awful lot of willpower to fight my way through the ups and downs of the road to recovery, and there might be times when I may feel a bit down and depressed, but there would be counsellors that I could talk to about how I was feeling.