I have an urge to drink. I want a bottle of whisky and a couple of cans of coke. I want to suppress the voices that still whisper at the back of my head. They were once a constant murmur but I managed to banish them to a place in my head that I never go.

I can feel it there today, lingering and waiting to be listened to. Sometimes I go prod it. That part of my brain. It almost feels solid. A heavy stone I carry around in my mind. It whispers to me tempting me to embrace it. Wake the beast to see if it will bite. The beast knows its place but sometimes on these rare occasions that I feel down I get a sense of its intention. I get the sense that it is waiting for me to fall, for my mind to slip. The demons prey on the weak and I know that it bides its time. It has an eternal patience as it’s not going anywhere. It’s in my head waiting. Waiting for me.