125 days…

Well no GC again today.  How surprising.  He just rang to say he would be here tomorrow.  Either way, your sister N will also be here tomorrow and I will get her to sign the forms so I can get new death certs for your parents. ….all this so I can sort out some poxy paperwork. FML.

Oh…..  and the other kicker is that he can’t bring you motorbike back for me to sell because it’s the only one working on the farm at the moment.  Apparently I should care that the farm needs a motorbike.  I really need to make more noises about selling that bastard of a place.


You know I hate that place for killing your parents.  I hate that place for all the back-breaking work it needs and the money it doesn’t earn/  I hate that place for all the times it stole you from our family for a weekend here, a “holiday” there.  Don’t think I’m ever taking the kids there again.  It’s a bastard of a place.  I only liked being there with you.

Why yes,  I’m in a foul mood.
I’m really quite shit off at the world at the moment.
I’m angry with you, angry with God, angry with life.

This is not the life I wanted.
This is not the life I chose.
This is not the life that I deserve because, Godamit, I am a nice person who doesn’t need this shit.


Hmm.  The coroner’s counsellor lady was right.  This shit gets harder over time.  Four months in and I’m feeling much worse than the first month.  The only thing that stands out as being the ultimate in bad was that first afternoon …. and it’s been a rapid decent into this pit of hell ever since.

I try for a foothold but it doesn’t last long … before I know it, I’m sliding into the blackness again.

and you aren’t here to pull me out.

Fuck this shit.