I am prone to spells where I feel out of control and as if I’m ‘going mad’.

I’ll try not to bore you – this is about the benefits I believe there are to be had in going back to where you felt happiest and safest – but I need to give you some background information first.

The vast majority of my childhood was spent in the Mile Cross area of Norwich. Those who know it will probably not speak highly of it. It’s not a nice place. But for me, it was home. From when I was a toddler until I had to move away in 2010, aged 17.

Specifically, it was this house. The one you can see the side of here. That was my bedroom window for nearly 15 years.

You may have seen my old cul-de-sac doing the rounds on the internet actually – as when viewed from above it does rather look like the Millennium Falcon.

It’s now more than six years since I left, but I admit I just can’t get over it. I still wish I lived there. I still have dreams in which I am back on familiar ground. When I’m having one of my bad spells I think about it even more.

Today I had a bit of free time so I got in my car and went back to where I still call home.

Being back there, walking around the area, it was an odd feeling. It was as if my head was properly screwed on – I don’t remember even thinking about where I was going, my feet just took me on a circuit of the estate and right back to where I started.

You are entitled to think ‘for god’s sake, get over it and move on’, but believe me if it was that easy I would have done it a long time ago.

Not a great deal has changed. I only glanced at my old house as there was a car in the driveway and I’m not sure how I’d feel if I looked out of the window to see someone staring up at my home, but it was pretty much identical to how it looked when I was there. Although I don’t like their choice of curtains. Our old neighbours are also still there.

I went down a passageway out of the cul-de-sac and walking round to Bowers Avenue saw the first change. A newly built block of flats.

I carried on and came to the biggest buildings on the estate.

These blocks of flats are unmistakably 1960s, and they are big enough to be seen from Mousehold Heath.

I ended up going down the hill and taking a walk around Sloughbottom Park, the scene of countless kickabouts with my dad and where I used to train with and play for the Norman Wanderers Under 11s and Under 13s before I realised – some time after everyone else – that I was hopeless at football.

Looking towards the changing rooms.

Looking towards the main road.

The very same pitch I played on 10 years ago.

The pitch was in a rather better state than it used to be when I played on it about a decade ago.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. You’ve put up with me being rather self-indulgent. But let me explain – I did this to attempt to reconnect with who I used to be. The happy, studious kid I was. For reasons I won’t share here, things went south for me when I stopped living here. So coming back enabled me to get those feelings of safety and security back, if only for an hour or so. Writing this up has helped me make it last that little bit longer.

Everyone has a place like this. A place where they have memories, a place where they were happy. If you’re feeling down or a bit lost, why not go back to that place? I promise you, it will do you the world of good.