It is two years this week since my son disappeared and was found drowned a week later. I’ve found that the best way through things is to carry on working. You cannot do anything about the part of your heart that is broken, other than carry on.

Writing is useful when you are feeling bad, even the most mundane subjects are much better than looking at the dark hole inside, and there is something soothing about the rhythmic tapping of the keys. It’s not often that I put stream of consciousness stuff on here but this is the way things are at the moment. I can certainly do without the bloody RA flare that has been hanging around for more than a week.

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