In hospital, we had to drink a lot of juice & fortisips (build up shakes).

One day at breakfast, when given my glass of orange juice, something snapped in my head, for no apparent reason. The voice told me that the juice was poison.

Again even to me now, this sounds crazy, but I cannot tell you just how real it was at the time, just how much I believed it.

I ran. I got to the middle of the staircase and was cornered with one member of staff above me and one below me.

I was convinced they were evil and they were poisoning me, so I must get out, but I was now trapped.

I was clinging on to the walls for dear life, screaming and shouting at them to get away from me. They could not come near me for a while as I was in that much of a state.

It took them hours to calm me down. From then on, they replaced my juice with milk, having seen the trauma it caused me, and that it was not simply that I did not want the juice.

A big part of my diet in Malta is now from Dr.Juice! I love that it is literally named after my old demon, and I love even more that I voluntarily buy it, and walk along the seafront enjoying all it’s goodness

When drinking this one today, I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of myself against those walls… I could not imagine ever being that way, and if you know me, I’m sure you can’t either!

This illness is powerful, it’s possession, it’s being controlled. That’s what this memory is trying to show you…