That is the part nobody tells you.

On the second night I sat on the edge of my bed and I went through the hour and sixteen minutes minute by minute, four times, because a part of my brain had decided that it needed to be absolutely certain that I had not done something.

I knew I had not.

I know it now and I knew it then.

And I did it anyway, four times, and then again in the November, and I have described this to a therapist named Imogen Achara who told me it is so common in this situation that it has a shape and a name.