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I was at a point where I knew my story had a happy ending. I was not at my happy ending, I was at that bit in between where too much had happened for me to go back and I couldn't see the way forward. I wondered if I should be in some way responsible for the unravelling of this step. Make something happen. But then I didn't know what to do or where to go. So I sat, waiting, knowing that the sadness will pass over time, as will the fear and one day I might totally forget that for a period of time I came home every night, came straight to bed and curled up in a ball, till I woke the next day to continue along the same pattern.

I would like to imagine, that in answer to the question above, those who know me are thinking “Nothing you are perfect”, but I have a feeling that they are eagerly shouting “where shall we start?” instead. So I’m going to narrow it down for you.

I don’t think before the age of 5 I was aware that bad things could happen. That changed when I was 5 years, 7 months and 26 days old. That was the day my father died and my life changed drastically. I cannot even begin to imagine the person I would be today if he was still alive. But the fact is that he died.