It was only a year ago I realised I’d spent most of my life in a stupor. When you look that word up in a dictionary, it uses drunkenness in an example sentence: ‘an unconsciousness brought on by intoxicants’.

While I certainly used to enjoy a few glasses of the strong stuff, the stupor I refer to is one of non-presence: of being so intoxicated with reflections upon my past and thoughts (be they worries or wishes) about my future, that I was never really, truly, here.

My memories were a haze, and I saw time flying by faster than I’d like.