When all you’re left with is alone

One lonely robot. (c) Married to an Alcoholic

One lonely robot. (c) Married to an Alcoholic

It’s 5am. In the past three hours, I’ve reached over three times trying to find her little toes. Because by this time, she’s padded over the landing and crept into my bed because she’s scared.

And each time I reach over, I remember she’s not here. Continue reading


Every second

So, that great wave has broken against the rocks and sprawled its way across the sand. The wild thing in me, washed away. Way back along the shore, there’s me, watching these crazy thoughts splinter in the sunshine.  Continue reading

Two years old


Today is my anniversary. Exactly two years ago today, I started writing this blog. Back then, I was desperate and in despair. Rosie was a mere 3 3/4 years old. What she knew of her dad was that he had been suffering from an unidentified illness all her life. Continue reading

Isn’t it great when you don’t have to be responsible?

It is, right? Because then you don’t have to worry about collecting the child, or paying the bills, or cooking, or going to work, or doing the laundry, or making sure you leave home on time to drop the child off at school. Continue reading


Running. Away, towards, whatever. I’m running right now.

Imagine: standing still, while the you inside pulls away like a wad of chewing gum strung up to the underside of a shoe. See? One piece is still on the pavement, the other is bungeeing upwards away, momentarily free, until the shoe strikes the pavement and leaves a little bit of you behind with each step. Perpetual displacement with no refuge. Continue reading