When I moved into my tiny top-floor studio flat in 2018, it was a blank page. Still, it was mine, just mine (for as long as I was willing to pay the extortionate rent). When it was time to move on, I thought living alone would give my mental health the best chance of continued recovery. It could be a retreat, a place where I didn’t have to pretend to be well, or sane, if I wasn’t. And then my friend Andy asked me if I wanted to rent the spare room in his flat.

Source: The Guardian September 10, 2020 09:56 UTC