Sunlight seeping through the windows, I stretched my arms out with a big yawn.
‘Good morning, darling,’ my husband Gary, 53, smiled.
Although it was a dream come true to wake up next to my love each morning, I knew the day ahead would be a nightmare.
Living with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), uncontrollable thoughts steered me into repetitive behaviours.
Day and night, I had a mental checklist with dozens of inane rituals.
Brushing my teeth up and down, then side to side, I’d do it in sets of four, over and over. That wasn’t right, I’ll do, I’d think, frustrated.
