Since getting our test results I have felt uncomfortable in my skin.

I often feel like I am drowning in an over sized suit that was made for someone else. My haircut feels like it belongs to someone with a smaller chin and bigger eyes. I notice the holes in my shoes, the threadbare patches in my coat lining and tears in my jeans and I know, then, that I’ve held onto these things too long.

I don’t always recognise myself when I look in the mirror or who I am when I talk. I used to gush, enthuse and gesticulate, now I listen and don’t always have reassuring things to say.

Even the food I am used to eating – the fruit at breakfast, the salads at lunch – feel uninspired and dull, like they were chosen by a different person, for me to eat. My environment feels small, like all the boxes and cartons and files are coming in like the tide. Soon I won’t have anywhere to stand. Old jackets and bags and books needs to be thrown away and the things I use need to be put in places I can reach them, but that are out of sight.

Sometimes I don’t want to be here at all. I want to be in a different city or a different country where no one knows me or cares that I look tired.

I’ve experienced change over a period of years, the kind of change you only notice when you look back and find yourself smiling at something that used to make you cry. I’ve experienced immediate change in the way that only shock or grief can conjur. But I’ve never felt this – a regular shift, almost hourly, always perceptible, always moving… I feel like my soul is moving too quick for my body to keep up. I don’t know where it’s going or where it will end up but I know that I must follow.