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I was 700 days sober yesterday, battling depression and sobriety is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
Everyday is a task to stay sober and stay alive.
I'm doing it, I do it everyday, I just don't know how I do it...

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June 14th My Son Is Coming Home.

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The coroner has rang today and the funeral home. My son will be getting collected from Liverpool, Monday morning. Which means I can hopefully see him Tuesday. Its Friday today. It will be over 2 weeks since I last saw my child. As a mother, my body is yearning to see my son. I just need to hold him and kiss him on his head. I feel sickness to the pit of my stomach, I'm dreading seeing my baby in a coffin, I'm dreading the funeral. This shouldn't be happening. His funeral will be July 1st at 12.15. I just feel numb. Im convinced its not my son and he'll just arrive home at some point.. I feel hollow with a sick feeling in my stomach. A few of my friends delivered me a beautiful canvas of my son this morning. What beautiful, thoughtful people I have in my life. I don't really know how I feel or what to say, I don't understand how I'm still alive. I'm lost...
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