The first sip of coffee holds within it a sense of expectation. It is tired, bleary eyed and grumpy, yet still expectant of the day ahead.
Happy New Year, Happy New Decade, Happy New Everything
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.