Those times psychosis nearly killed me
In as much as you are able, face your own darkness and the darkness in the world without flinching This article is one of a series on my experience of psychosis. The articles are: Conversations with the Holy Guardian Angel (or How I Ended Up in Prison) Wretchedness and a Gun Those Times my Psychosis Nearly Killed Me Fragments of a Once Broken Mind Account of a Curse Many years ago, what feels like several lifetimes in the past (but in fact around 1994), I was mad. Going mad wasn't easy, it took a great deal of time and determination but I finally made it. My madness lasted less time than the headlong plunge and bleak freefall into its crevices, but the recovery took around six years before I felt normal. Still there isn't a day when my mind doesn't wander back to that time and the pain of it all. My madness was a psychosis, a delusion, it left me homeless in Cambridge for months ending only with a brief stay in Beford prison (where Pilgrim's Progress was