Bedford by night

No, no, you go ahead. You must be in a rush.

Night falls. I decide to take a long walk to my local. Swap my Dockers for jeans, my leather Clarks for Converses, my bleep for my Nokia mobile and my stethoscope for my iPod Shuffle. Within minutes, I'm a different man altogether and with Rihanna thumping in my ears, I'm normal once more.

As I walk further and further away from Bedford Hospital, my steps become lighter and this weight on my shoulders slowly ebbs away.

You're a good doctor. You don't talk down to me like the others do.

I'm no longer the person you expect to be caring and compassionate every second of the day. I'm no longer the person who has all the answers and reassurances. I'm no longer the person to whom you confide all your troubles.problems.worries.anxieties as if I don't already have my own to deal with. Most important of all, I'm no longer the person you've placed your high expectations on. Yes you, and you, and you.

A local isn't exactly a local when it's this far away but more than half an hour later, I'm shopping for cereal and milk as well as sugar and tea along the aisles. No one makes way. Not a single person casts even a sideways glance.

Back on the roads, I note my slow respiratory rate and watch my breath condense before my very eyes into shapeless puffs of vapour.

So where does that all leave me?!

I'm glad for this quick and easy escape if only for a semblance of what normal used to be. How it once felt to be carefree. I'm not even sure which worries me more: the fact that it's becoming more difficult or the fact that there's no turning back?

Ephemeral steam

Thank you very much. I'm fine but I feel lonely.

What constitute loneliness? Is it having a bowl of cereal at 2:00 am whilst my friends (who also happen to be my housemates) are fast asleep upstairs? Or this feeling of dread towards my cold bed? Maybe it's not having a family to turn to? Or just anyone else for that matter?

I try to shout for help but the alter ego within me stifles my cry and tells me to deal with it like the strong man he is.

Half an hour later and I'm standing under a scalding hot shower. Mesmerized by the rivulets of water running down my torso, I drift away with the ephemeral steam.

Is Man inherently lonely? The fact that we're social animals must surely open up the possibility of us being lonely. My guess is, more often than not, if not always.

I very much doubt that loneliness is dependent on the number of social connections one has. I think it all boils down to how well another person knows us. But is it possible to know or understand another person completely? A single entity of firing neurones and fiery passions in its entirety?

I don't think it's at all possible; not with a long-standing partner, or even family. But if this is indeed the case, then aren't we all a sorry bunch of lonely bastards?

Cephas tells me that my loneliness stems from thinking too much - which is little consolation - and my acute perception of this loneliness which most people apparently do not notice. But my reassurance comes from the subtle suggestion that he might have reached the very same realization himself.