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My heart is slowly slipping into deep upset, and resentment.

This place (WordPress and my iPad) is my sacred place, I have no problems with bearing all to all. The ‘all’ is just anyone who stumbles here. I don’t really mind if no one reads it, it’s my world, it’s my history, and I hope those that do have empathy, not created from traumatic circumstances, look after their loved ones and cherish every moment.

It is like dieing slowly. It like all-sorts of people, so many not known, are all making decisions about my son, his partner and our grandson that are slowing killing us.

I do not remember ever being in a state of perpetual tearfulness as I am now. Even with my parents dieing, even with other deaths we have encountered I coped with out a personal drama. We are slowly loosing him to the system and see a beautiful, polite, happy young boy become apart of behemoth service. His innocence of our plight is magical to me.

My state of mind says, at my age, I might never see him again. He will be 18 (15 years hence) before he can decide whether to make contact. Have I got 15 years? That is the first time I have thought about my mortality.

Last week I sat here and cried

How a week changes your life thoughts. I sat in this very cafe and cried to my self. I rested my forehead in my hands in an attempt not to be seen but really wanted someone, yes a stranger, to tap me on my shoulder and ask.

I am sitting here on a baking day, (waiting for the predicted heatwave) amongst people who appear to have no problems. There are eight of them, seven women and one chap. Could be work friends and are chatting about everything under the sun: Gentlemen Jack, it’s forth coming replacement – demanding no one gives out any spoilers.

I look and I see happy exteriors.

A women, who I suspect is a cross dresser, is ordering her meal. Her covered head could reveal more, but it matters not to me.

I look and I see happy exteriors.

The staff here are a collection of mature people all of whom have a strong purpose of service. They are busy busy people who serve their customers with dignity and pride. I don’t see this type of service in any of the chain coffee places.

I look and I see happy exteriors.

I hope they are, as I now know my shell is soft and bruises easily and I am always on guard for a glancing blow to my feelings.

I look and I see happy exteriors.

It occurs to me honesty is a fickle concept

Over the last four months my life has been dominated by a two major activities. Concentrating on the Special Guardian process for this particular blog reveals that each of the social services branches I and my family are involved with do not always understand what they have agreed with each other.

My concern is: we now find out that the process we are going through is to be used as evidence in the decision about whether our son and partner are fit and proper people to raise their son. It had been explained it was a separate process and was a backstop in case it was needed; i.e. if returning the child to home was not done.

This is not denying this has to be asked or what the outcome is to be, but how the social services are concentrating on the negative aspects of the situation in away that seems to be sacrificing two people who are desperately doing everything asked of them under the guise of child comes first.

I feel that if they had joined-up thinking and actually looked deeper than their individual responsibilities and worked collaboratively to solve the underlying issues the parents the BIG problem would be solved on route.

It appears to me they are positioning themselves on the self righteous side of life and going for a split up as it is safe. It will destroy five people in a stroke. There will be no return. Five peoples lives gone,

Yes, I hear and read all the documentation produced, which I have previously criticised for being incorrect and inaccurate, but it is when I stitch together what they say and do when presenting their own position to us, I see a trend away from there declared aim of keeping the family together.

Trust is being diminished.

A friend, a chat

On this occasion time was not pressing so we just I talked and talked. He did know I had been treated for PTSD and I talked about the process of EMDR and without any warning I found my self fighting back tears and not really able to continue the conversation.

I had revisited my past and those memories of the train accident returned at full blast, just full unabated blast. That shocked me greatly. I did not know where it came from and I said that I had thought I had a learnt to manage those feelings and was able to revisit the accident and walk calmly through the scene and accept I could do no more – but how wrong I was.

It was several week ago now and I think of that event with mixed emotions. I was shocked that the memory was still so vividly and emotional for me. Then, how innocent the trigger was.

Reflecting on that, I was pleased that my fear of forgetting the event had not taken place as I felt I would be disrespectful to those who were hurt in the train crash.

Open Offer

As I move through this time of thinking and reflecting on what happened and how I am returning to my former self (I have an internal debate about that) I am starting to notice mental health issues everywhere.

It might sound contrived but a day does not pass without a comment on the radio or a news item on television about mental health. It may just be the typical situation that when something touches you, you become more inclined to see things associated with it: Much like why people become involved with charities.

I feel I want to comment on these things as they have had a direct impacted on me, all be it lightly in my view, but the problem is there are many better qualified people writing about current affairs and being active in this area than me. I only have one view on this and don’t want to just rant about it, or just moan because I can see injustices.

OPEN OFFER: If you are personally affected by a mental health issue or know someone who is and feel they would benefit from having a coherent article written for them please contact me. I will talk with them over an extended period of time and photograph them and write accordingly.

This is not an offer to be their champion and challenge anyone or any organisation on their behalf, but simple to portray their predicament accurately. I will publish their story.

There will be other things to setup to ensure we are working together in a professional way and only after these are in place will we start.

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