I couldn’t make the decision to pick up a book, or to open it. I couldn’t make any decision at all. Would I like a cup of tea? I had no idea. I barely knew whether to get up in the morning, let alone bother to get dressed. The future? It didn’t exist. Everything I thought I had known or cared about suddenly had no meaning. Much of the day I simply concentrated on trying not to blink, since I had noticed the images that hovered over me, waiting to kidnap my mind, were quick to pounce when I closed my eyes.
On his experiences suffering from PTSD
