Dear Ricky Gervais,

I’ve been there. No, not a widowed middle-aged man with an alcohol problem. But I’ve been at the point where life’s unrelenting conveyor belt  is ushering you to keep moving forward but you are still frantically trying to scramble against time to stay close to the person you lost.

How Many Spoons Do You Have Today?

I feel as though I am slowly sinking into thick black tar. My clothes feel like lead, pulling me under even more, weighing heavy against my lungs making it difficult to breathe. I don’t have the strength to put out my arm and reach for help. I feel completely overcome with grief for my mum. I feel debilitated.