How can the birds be singing? It’s a beautiful day why won’t my mind be still and accept that.
When I wake fear slaps me in the face. Daughter’s diagnosis, on all hallow’s eve, so severe and lifelong. I’m the mummy but I can’t fix this one. Can’t hug it away. She’s coping better than me but I’m not coping at all.
I have to get up and go to work now. No choice. I want to sleep. I want to throw up. I want someone to hug me and look after both of us.
I don’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure I can deal with your response.