I am in the most intense group therapy session I have ever sat through. It’s a ‘sharing circle’ of 20 people. Everyone except the counsellor leading the session is at least five years younger than me, and they are here because they are trying to rebuild lives that have spiralled out of control.

By sharing their worst behaviour with the group, they hope to change it.

But I am beginning to feel like I am the only one not in possession of a Sphinx-like sense of calm. One member of the group, Eva*, 19, is reading out something she’s written. It’s a list of all the ways her behaviour has hurt the people she loves the most.

“One: a few months ago I told my parents I don’t love them,” she says in a deadpan voice.

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