I looked into the eyes of this 72 year old woman and she was utterly broken within herself. Her head shifting from side-to-side finding herself unable to make reason of the thoughts intruding on her mind. Are they thoughts that belong to her or are they thoughts that have been played on her prying on her and weakening. She looks around her, to the doctor, to the carer, to us- for reassurance. Perhaps we can make the irrational rational, perhaps we can take the thoughts away. But then the thoughts are so real, so are they really alien thoughts or they true and everybody else has sided with the untruth. Is it her against us. It was revealed she had had a neglected childhood passed to and fro like an object with no worth or substance. She had grown up not knowing love or shelter or compassion, clawing at oppurtunity to get away only to be sucked in by the inevitable. I looked into her eyes, and suddenly I was looking into the eyes of Britain in thirty, maybe forty years time?