Anyway, not kidding about the OCD bit. That became very debilitating as a kid for a while.

Such a huge burden to have to carry at that age, to know that the entire nature of reality depends on you holding certain things together.

But it also makes you despairingly stoical. Hellhounds appear & it’s like, Oh you too, OK, sure, why the fuck not.

But dogs seemed less trivial.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that my grandparents had a large black dog that liked me, so would follow me around silently from room to room when I went to visit them, to be fair.

The number of times I’d see it out of the corner of my eye and be like, ThisisnotEastAnglia. ThisisnotEastAnglia.