"What if" are two tiny words, two tiny words that on their own don’t hold that much meaning. But, what if I told you that those two words have dominated my life for the best part of ten years? What if you knew how those words control me, cause me to struggle, to fear, to feel anxious and in the end depressed?

The question is not a hard one, when all's said and done. No harder than name, age, address, criminal convictions or any of the fields which form the mainstay of your average application form.

Nevertheless, 'any disabilities?' is a phrase capable of rendering me wordless, not to mention the 'if yes, please elaborate' that follows it. I pride myself on being open about the way I experience mental health but I can't pretend it doesn't feel like a bit of a thankless task when faced with the fear that this same openness could be so very detrimental to my future.