This month, in recognition of World Mental Health Day , I’ll be sharing snippets from my soon-to-be self-published book, All My Heroes Are Weirdos.
It’s a story about a lot of things; about love and life and dreams, but more than anything, it’s a story about how I lost my mind, and how I found it again – hidden where it had always been. A mind that went from one of great strength and assertion to one of complete and utter weakness; a deluded, tortured mind.
It’s about a journey I went on, a trillion serendipitous moments that on their own look like a series of tiny coincidences, yet, as the story unfolds, every star emanates in the form of a character, a glance, a smile, a word uttered, a move made, a feeling felt and all play a role in this clever little script that is life.
I stood in front of the tall mirror in the middle of my bedroom, my toes curling into the soft biscuit-coloured carpet beneath them. Innocence was reflecting off the ivory-coloured walls and sunlight shone brightly through the cracks in my blinds, beaming across my naked face. My eyes were strained under the watery weight of sorrow as I stared back at the reflection I’d now come to recognise as my own.
I peered through waterlogged lashes, looking back at my spiritless self. I appeared just as hollow and haunting as I had the day before and yet this time, this particular morning, something was different.