It has been three years since I lived in Gran Alacant, but I always keep in touch with the wonderful community on the Costa Blanca when I can. Gran Alacant was full of wonderful characters, many of whom remain friends today. One such person is June Menditta, who I have written about before. This is a lady who helped Darrell and I tremendously when we first moved to Spain in January 2016. June often posts photographs and memories from my time in GA, and I am always interested to see how she is getting on.

As a pivotal part of the Expat community, June is a big personality and has always done what she can, to help charities that she holds dear. She was always the centre of information and a 'go to' place when needing advice. She is someone I hold in the highest regard and miss terribly. June will be one of the first people I visit when I return to Gran Alacant and is a person I am glad to call a friend.

June sent me a message the other day detailing her charitable efforts, raising money for Cancer Research, a charity I have taken to my heart back home in Britain. Her 10,000 steps a day challenge has raised 750€ for important research, with June completing a final step count of 376,824, which is a staggering 147 miles. This is an amazing achievement for June and certainly tugged at my heart strings, as I read about her endeavours.

My memories of Spain are wide and varied, but the people who live and work in Gran Alacant are always on my mind. Throughout this pandemic, I have often thought about them and the lives they have forged in Europe. The contribution Expats make to local life, wherever they are based, is often overlooked by the vast majority of the British public; most have no concept about living abroad. However, throughout Spain and beyond, there are small enclaves of British Ex patriots doing their bit to raise money for good causes, even if life is a struggle for them. The mark of true altruism, is selflessly helping those in greatest need, despite our own obligations and demanding lifestyles. The people of Gran Alacant always go that extra mile, to give back, even in an unforgiving World.

Yesterday I went to visit my friend Mr F as promised. She has left the Hospital and was at home, feeling philosophical about her diagnosis. We have been friends for a little over a year now, and I have got to know her quite well. She always has a smile on her face and is full of positivity, despite the challenges she faces on a daily basis. Her Cancer diagnosis has undoubtably changed her outlook on life, but it has also given her an opportunity to talk to people in a way she hasn't before.

Mrs F has asked me to help her over the next few months; she wants to write letters to family and friends, expressing how she feels about them and the role they have played in her life. She has spoken extensively about the people she holds dear, but is finding it difficult to express herself in words. Mrs F is beginning a process most of us will have to embrace at some point in our lives. She is putting her life in order and saying her last goodbyes, in the best way she can.

I spent an hour listening to this dear lady talk about her life, the trials and tribulations she endured, her hopes and fears for the future, her recollections of happier times and her regrets, disappointments and anguish. There were some tears of course, but mainly this was an opportunity for Mrs F to tell her story and have someone listen to her words.

I took notes and have started to write the letters on her behalf. To many, composing farewell messages for someone else, may seem a bit strange, but this is the way she wants to say farewell and most importantly, it gives her the chance to talk about her life, to someone who doesn't really know the details. I am able to listen, understand and not judge, equally I can be a sounding board and a friend; this is particularly fundamental for Mrs F at this time.

I have the feeling she feels comfortable with this process in my company, and I'm not so sure whether she would find it as easier around people who are close. Sometimes the person looking in, can be a catalyst for recalling events, that others might dismiss as irrelevant or unimportant. I understand what is crucial for Mrs F now - the support of friends on her final journey and  I will do what I can as an outsider, to be there to listen and help at this difficult time. I hope her final months will be congenial, as she thinks about events and circumstances that have contributed to the life she has led, leaving an indelible impression on all those who know her!

If there was a phrase to describe the last few days it would be 'One step closer.' Yesterday Darrell and Mum finally received their first dose of AstraZeneca vaccine at his Doctors surgery in Australia. This is great news, not only for Darrell and his Mother, but also for us.

I believe Australia has performed only about two million vaccine doses so far, out of 25.3 Million citizens; this equates to less than ten percent of the population. It is true to say that Australia have been particularly slow at administering the vaccine, but circumstances haven't always been in their favour. The European Union were quick to block shipments to the continent, when their own vaccination strategy faltered and supplies have been redirected to Papua New Guinea in order to help control a severe outbreak of COVID-19 there. Australia also has the virus pretty much under control and hasn't needed a fast  immunisation roll out, in the same way the UK and Europe have for example. Quite simply, this island nation can afford to wait a little longer than other countries and has been in no rush to ramp up its programme.

Of course their seemingly apathetic response has been a source of concern for Darrell and I. I didn't want Darrell travelling to the UK without his vaccine, so we have been very fortunate that he has been given it so early. My Mother-in-Law's terminal cancer status, was the clear factor in pushing him to the top of the vaccine list. As her full-time live in carer, he has to be fully protected, along with Mum. There was no point in  her having the first dose and Darrell not, it would have defeated the whole object. Darrell was immediately added to the list of patients who fell into the top category and prioritized at the earliest opportunity.

Speaking to Darrell this morning, he doesn't seem to have had any adverse reaction to the jab, except for the few minor symptoms you normally get after a vaccine.  With his second one due in July, he should be far more confident when flying to Britain in November. It is a weight off both our minds, and we are both thankful he has now had his first inoculation.

This may well be one step closer to us being reunited once again, but this is only just the beginning. After taking legal advice, Darrell has contacted his federal representative in the Australian Parliament, The Honourable Ken Wyatt AM MP, who will help him obtain an exemption to leave Australia in six months time. It is clear, after speaking to a legal executive, that it is unlikely, Australia will relax their travel ban any time soon. It is only with the help of politicians and other groups, that Darrell will be allowed to leave and maintain his 'Indefinite Leave to Remain' visa, here in The United Kingdom. If he fails to get that exemption, then he will quite possibly lose his right to live here, having to reapply to enter on a 'Returning Resident Visa.'

There is still a lot of hard work ahead for both of us, as we continue to navigate this new World, but with a little bit of positivity and luck, we should be reunited at some point this year, Until then, we are continuing to maintain our long distant relationship in the best way we can, looking forward to the day we see each other again

Back home in Britain, I am also one step closer to discovering what has been causing my severe back, hip and pelvic pain. Yesterday I had an appointment at Queen Alexandra Hospital in Cosham, to have a series of XRAYS done, so my Rheumatologist can determine the source of suffering. I have been waiting a long time for this appointment, just as I have to get Darrell back home, so it is yet another weight lifted. After some blood tests next week, my consultant should have as much information as he needs, to at least make some form of preliminary diagnosis.

If one was to measure just how far we have both come this week, it would be 'off the scale.' Both of us have had our first jabs, the legal process has started, to allow Darrell to travel, and I am not too far away from discovering a source of agony I have been dealing with for nearly four years. Both of us can take a little time to ourselves, breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to a more rewarding outlook, at least until the next hurdle pops up... Now is the time to focus on the end goal and not look back; the next six months will be crucial in the direction both our lives take.

It's been eight days since I last blogged, rather a long time for me. The truth is,  I've had an extremely busy week work wise and just haven't had the time. Today is the first day, I have just been able to relax and unwind;  every bone in my body aches, but after a perfect nights sleep, I feel great and ready for anything.

I have always tried to limit the amount of hours I work in order to concentrate on the things I love. I don't need to work the long days I have in the past, and I am quite happy with the thirty or so hours I dedicate each week. It allows me to save for the future and keep my head above water until Darrell comes home, and we decide what we are going to do for the rest of our lives. These past seven days however, I have taken on extra shifts, while people are on holiday and have worked far more than I usually do.

It has been a particularly uplifting few days at work. As an organisation we have been raising money for Cancer Research, my charity of choice, especially as I also volunteer for them when I can. Wearing pink, we have created awareness about a subject many of us find hard to discuss and talk about.

The pandemic has prevented many charities from raising money, so this was probably one of the first opportunities we have had, to really get Cancer Research involved in our efforts as a shop. Representatives were finally allowed through the doors to help promote the good work they do, and it did feel very close to the old days, before COVID-19. It was inspiring to be back doing what we all do best as a company. I have worked for many charities in the past, some better than others, but Tesco really do go that extra mile, and it shows in the dedication they have towards local and national groups who all need our help at this time.

It was quite apt that we were collecting money for Cancer Research this week; on Saturday I received some news, that I wish I really hadn't. I'm sure readers of Roaming Brit will recall dear 'Mrs F,' a lady who I had formed a close friendship with over the last year, during the pandemic. Well sadly she has been diagnosed with cancer, leaving an extremely heartfelt message on my phone explaining her diagnosis.

Mrs F sounded extremely frail and upset, understandably so, expressing a wish to see me before she passed away, so she could say goodbye. I felt extremely emotional and upset at this terrible news, but understand how important it is to see my lovely friend before she dies. Cancer is such a terrible disease, half of us will experience it in some form during our lifetime. It is so important to do what we can, as human beings, to help those closest, get through such a tough, burdensome time. Mrs F's diagnosis isn't good, and it is especially pertinent for me to see her as soon as I can. She was an important person in my life, especially after the death of my Mother and I want to make sure she understands how much I care.

I am due at the hospital myself this week, to have some XRAY's done on my back and pelvis, so my Rheumatologist, can determine the source of pain I have had over the past few years. It will also be the perfect opportunity to see Mrs F and say a final farewell.

There appears to be so much death in the headlines at the moment and as a person who overthinks situations, it often plays on my mind somewhat. The COVID Pandemic does seem on the surface at least, to be under control here, and I think all of us can breathe a sigh of relief. My own father has had his second vaccine and mine is due in a little over a month. After another negative test result from COVID yesterday, I am feeling far more confident about the future, than I have done in many months. However not all countries are doing so well.

Last week I highlighted Brazil's huge failure in dealing with Coronavirus. Its right wing President has little or no concern for the people he is supposed to represent and the death toll is in the hundreds of thousands. Looking at the news this week, I was shocked to see another country in a similar, if not worst position.

India, a country my Aunt knows well, having travelled there many times before, is suffering in a way none of us can fully comprehend. The news reports from this hugely populated country are grim. Photo's of burning bodies, being cremated in groups along the sides of rivers, as people die in the streets through lack of oxygen and medical supplies is deeply disturbing. These are photographs depicting scenes from hell and I can't express how unsettled I was to witness them.

Yet another failed right wing government is sacrificing its people, ignoring the scale of the unfolding disaster across the nation. This is a country that can afford to send rockets into space, but can't or won't protect its citizens. The failures of the pandemic are clear to see, and they exist in the policies of countries who care little for their people, where free market ideals take priority over saving lives and lockdowns are only used when all else has failed. The COVID crisis has really underlined the abject blunders and collapse of policies that have proven bankrupt when dealing with the protection of human life during a crisis. The last few years really have shown just how substandard and atrocious our world leaders are; I hope this will be a catalyst for change, I'm afraid it will just be ignored, like many logistical disasters of the past.

.... And finally - Darrell and I are beginning to work out the timescale for his return to the UK. Mum in law's cancer seems to be under control now and able to be managed, when he returns, which is good news. My fingers are crossed for him receiving his first vaccine this week and both of us can at least see a chink of light at the end of the tunnel. Of course nothing runs smooth in our life, but hopefully we can be a little more positive especially with the pandemic under control in the UK. Australia have entered a three-day lockdown however and the hope is it will be enough to control an outbreak of the Indian strain of the virus.

As winter turns to summer, so to my mood turns from pessimism to optimism. All of us have had our struggles to endure this last year and a half, but unlike so many others, most of us have survived relatively unscathed. When Autumn returns, I will finally be able to count the days before Darrell's return and hopefully look forward to a virus free World; until then we keep battling on!

The funeral of HRH The Duke of Edinburgh on Saturday, was yet another reminder of the distressing times we are living through. Her Majesty The Queen, sat alone, without the support of her family. The scene was poignant and moving, creating anxiety for The entire royal family. It brought home the scale of the pandemic and underlines the affect its reach has on every one of us, rich, poor and even our own Head of State.

This was a royal occasion like no other I have seen in my lifetime and if I am honest, one of the most emotional national events I have ever witnessed. The COVID pandemic had ensured a scaled down funeral, but it also guaranteed a more intimate affair and the raw sentiment of the day was clear to see. Like a gaping wound, the Royal Family had to say their final farewell to The Duke, at a time of restrictions and regulation, in the glare of publicity, broadcast all over the World.

The Queen arrived at the church with a lady in waiting, although, because the funeral was restricted to just 30 guests, Her Majesty entered alone, walking the short distance through the archway of the portico, where she was greeted by the Dean. Briefly, she looked back, one may assume she was looking for her husband, another member of her family, or just a guiding hand, but there was no one there, and she slowly, shuffled into the Chapel. This was a 95-year-old Monarch, who had given her life to her country and was now carrying out probably the most burdensome task of her life.

I was struck by how frail she looked; a black mask trimmed in white, covering the emotions on her face. Saturday truly felt like the end of an era, with the burial of Prince Philip; I had the feeling we were coming towards the end of our second Elizabethan age, in a way I hadn't seen before. When two people have been married for 73 years, the death of one or the other is a great loss for the surviving partner. In many cases they also pass away shortly afterwards. I was conscious of the great sadness Queen Elizabeth must have felt, but was also aware of her enduring dedication to our Country and recurrent sense of purpose. This is a Monarch who has much to live for, as we all continue to battle this pandemic and I hope she will be around for many more years to come.

Sometimes I can't believe how much all our lives have changed in such a short space of time. Watching The Queen and Royal Family wearing masks, was a sign of the times in every respect. I have become so used to adorning a mask myself, I doubt I will ditch it anytime soon, even if we are allowed to in the near future. I understand the  historic period in history we are living through, one that will be talked about for generations to come. It is likely, the pandemic of 2020/21 will be taught in schools, long after I have gone and when this is all over, our lives would have changed out of all proportion.

Today I have to take two Coronavirus tests a week to make sure all those I come into contact with are kept safe. I am in close contact with family and colleagues at work, so it is necessary to know that I am well, even if I have had my first COVID-19 vaccination. Initially I used to attend the Guildhall here in Portsmouth and take my lateral flow tests there. The process was quick, and I was generally sent the results in a text message within half an hour. Despite this, I always felt wary going there, mainly due to the amount of people queuing to have their tests. As a retail worker however, I am well aware of the importance of getting them done each week, so sought out an alternative. Now, I am able to order the tests online once a fortnight and have them delivered to my door. This is far easier to do and ensures I never forget to do one.

This is just one aspect of life that has transmuted and if I am honest, it is a process that will become a regular part of all our lives now. It is of course a mild inconvenience, but really nothing more. If it allows us to carry on a relatively normal life, then it is welcome. After the awful debacle of our Governments woeful pandemic response and the now 127,000 deaths, it is great to see the systems in place to protect us, finally working as they should.

A few days ago I watched a television programme on the devastation COVID is causing in Brazil. Right wing (borderline fascist) President Jair Bolsonaro, has taken his country down a dark path. The President refuses to lock the Country down, despite the deaths of nearly 400,000 people. 100,000 Brazilians are expected to die in April alone, as the incompetent Bolsonaro presides over a failed Coronavirus strategy, that is destroying life and scarily providing the right conditions for the virus to mutate into more, dangerous strains. Sitting there, watching in horror, as bodies were stacked up in crammed and crowded corridors, I was shocked at the scenes I was witnessing; With three million dead Worldwide, we are still very much in the eye of the storm and there is no sign it will change anytime soon.

I was so critical of Boris Johnson and his Government a year ago. They made mistake after mistake, but time has proven to be a great healer. Finally, as a nation, we are back on track, having vaccinated sixty-three percent of the population and yesterday recorded just ten deaths. Every life lost is a tragedy, but when one compares this to the thousand plus deaths a day, not that long ago, I think we are all thankful we are finally getting it right. Slowly opening the country has been the biggest success after the lockdown; when one factors in the successful immunisation programme, we are actually winning for a change, beating back the virus and protecting the population.... Long may that last!

Some good news this week; Darrell will definitely get his vaccination next week in Australia, being one of the first to receive it, after a short delay. This will mean he will be safe to travel here in November, under the Australian exemption scheme, allowing him to fly to Britain. This at least gives us some hope at an otherwise difficult time.

At the moment all of us are just living each day as it comes, not knowing what's around the corner. We may well be slowly opening up, but none of us know how long that will last. The Government has already indicated it will lock down if cases start to rise again, so it is likely we could find ourselves back at square one. For now, I am feeling more optimistic than I have in a long time and hope the next few weeks, will allow Darrell and I the opportunity to plan for the future. Nothing is of course certain; I just hope the impending summer, shines light on all our lives, and we can get back to the normality all of us crave!

It was all change today, as Britain moved out of lockdown and began to open up once again. After four months of closure, non-essential shops, hairdressers, alfresco dining and pubs can once again reopen, beginning the first tentative steps towards normality. Of course this was happening under the veil of the Duke of Edinburgh's death and the national eight days of mourning the country is currently in the midst of.

Out of respect to Prince Philip, all flags on public buildings are flying at half-mast and Portsmouth is no exception. Taking a short walk to Guildhall square over the last few days, I was pleased to see the Union Flag lowered to honour the memory of one of our countries greatest modernisers. Being a naval city, Portsmouth did have a close association with His Royal Highness and other members of the Royal Family. Guns were fired at The Hard in Portsea to mark his passing and by and large, locals are respectful and contemplative about the death of a long-standing national figure, like the Duke. You would expect nothing less from the headquarters of The Royal Navy, and I am proud to call this place home.

Things do seem rather different after the Dukes death; the period of national mourning dictates how Britain functions for the next eight days. Newsreaders and presenters wear sombre clothes, television shows reflect the mood of the country, and public services and advertising billboards give consideration to the loss of a significant member of the royal family. I was moved by a simple advertising hoarding at a bus stop in Commercial Road, marking the death of His Royal Highness, a sight mirrored throughout the city and country at large. The next eight days will be a period to remember and reflect on the life of Prince Philip, but it will also be a time to think about our own families and the loss we have all felt over the last year. There is no doubt we are all living through historic times and the death of the Queen's husband reinforces the challenges we are navigating; all of us have to find our own path through the difficulties both now and tomorrow.

The changing landscape was most noticeable today, as England's strict lockdown was lifted. I walked into the city early, to see everyone at Cancer Research, where I will be returning  soon, to once again start volunteering with Zerina, Sam and everyone else. I took a bag of unwanted clothes into the shop, and it was wonderful to finally see it open again, since its closure, the week before Christmas. The usual faces were there, beavering away behind the scenes; it felt like 'coming home,' chatting with old friends and colleagues alike.

The shop had been cleared of all its Christmas stock, that had been proudly displayed up until a few days ago. It looked refreshed and ready for customers to return once again; such a welcome sight, after an awful trading period. Some members of staff were a little apprehensive over the reopening, after only having a single jab, but most were just happy to be back making money for Cancer Research. In a few weeks, after a particularly busy time for me, I will be back in the ranks, looking forward to the months ahead.

The rest of the city centre, was less busy than I expected. There were plenty of people about, but not the huge crowds one would have expected on the first day after lockdown. There was a large queue of customers outside Primark, but it was all well-organised and good-humoured, as everyone waited patiently in line. Thankfully I wasn't going to join them for a spot of shopping, Primark just isn't my kind of shop and I could think of nothing worse than being in close quarters with the great unwashed. I hurriedly passed by, happy to avoid the eager shoppers.

The constantly changing landscape has been discernible over the last year, as we move from lockdown to opening up. The failure of 'Eat Out to Help Out,' and inevitable spread of the virus, cancelled family Christmases, the closure of public houses, communistic queuing in high streets and dystopian views, with roads free of traffic, have all contributed to a period like no other in our history. I am conscious of the tumultuous days that our now behind us, but I am apprehensive about the equally unsettled future ahead.

Walking around the high street today, in the middle of an international crisis and an eight-day period of national mourning, I was more aware than ever of my own place in the World. I am just a single person, on a planet of 7 billion, trying to survive at a time when the planet is being ravaged by a pandemic. These first small steps to freedom are just the beginning of a return to sanity and I embrace them wholeheartedly. I hope and pray this will be the last lockdown, but nothing is certain as we all do our best not to repeat the mistakes of the past!

Yesterday I was in a reflective mood, especially after the death of HRH Prince Philip. I have had time to think about the past and the future direction I want my life to take. When someone dies, in this case The Duke of Edinburgh, you are confronted by your own mortality and the reality is, I am not particularly happy reaching the milestone of fifty years old. I remember how traumatic it was, reaching forty, and I have very similar feelings today. This will also be the first year, I have celebrated a significant Birthday, without my partner by my side; this will be the most difficult of days and I would rather it wasn't happening at all!

It has been another difficult week in mine and Darrell's life, living apart, as we continue to grapple with partnership in a pandemic. We are trying to cover all possible scenarios as we near the end of his two years away from the UK. It is difficult to gage exactly what will happen when his Indefinite Leave to Remain visa has expired, but both of us have to think of the worst that can happen. Our situation isn't ideal, so as I approach my 50th year I am conscious of just how difficult life is at the moment.

Darrell and I have always celebrated our Birthdays to the fullest. For many years we would stage large parties and invite all our friends. In recent years however, especially during this pandemic, Birthdays have been rather low-key. I suppose I appreciate that, especially with Darrell being away from the UK; I am just not in the mood for celebrating, even if it is my fiftieth. Equally, reaching half a century is no mean feat. I never expected to reach this milestone; always living my life in the fast lane, experiencing everything I could, I fully expected to be dead long before now, but thus far it wasn't to be.

Recently I heard of the death of a friend from the 1990s, a carefree, happy time in my life; Peter Crossman sadly passed away after battling cancer. Peter was younger than I and I have some rather fond memories, spending time with him, during a period of discovery as I came to terms with my sexuality. Like me, Peter partied hard and enjoyed every moment of his youth. His death brought home, just how fragile all our lives are. I have experienced more deaths personally, than I care to remember and all of them young, from that 90s Generation X. These were the people I was proud to call friends and their lights will always burn brightly in my heart and in the hearts of all who knew them.

If I am truly honest, it has been a hard fifty years getting here. I never realised just how difficult my life would be and in many respects I feel old and worn out. Sick and tired of the continual battles I have to fight, I just want the next chapter to be a little more relaxing, without the stress and anxiety I feel every day. At fifty years old I should be winding down, thinking about taking a step back, but today I am working harder than I ever have, making up for the years of self-indulgence and excess; I really only have myself to blame.

Birthdays inevitably signal a time of contemplation. This year I shall be looking back towards happier times, remembering past celebrations. My current melancholic mood isn't lifting anytime soon, so anything that puts a smile on my face will help me prepare for reaching fifty years of age. I am mindful of the challenges ahead as we pass the first year of the COVID pandemic and Darrell and I try to steer our marriage from opposite sides of the World. At fifty, I have many ambitions still to fulfil and a life to live, after being on hold for far too long. I hope to spend May 9th 2021 quietly at home with family, gracefully surpassing middle age and looking forward to a productive future. The last year or so has been perplexing and bewildering, but it has given me time to realise just what is important to me now - Family, close friends, my husband Darrell and the happiness wisdom and experience brings!

A few photos from past Birthdays!

It's been a very strange Easter Sunday this year. Just my Cousin Emmy and I, sharing a roast, chatting about life. In years gone by, I have been used to a far bigger affair, but with COVID still knocking at the door, all of us have had to make sacrifices for the greater good. The large family gatherings of the past seem a distant memory now, as all of us continue to live our lives under the cloud of a virus, that in many parts of the World, continues to grow exponentially. It was great to sit and chat with Emmy, and I was able to think about the egregious nature of the  last few years in a more calming, focused way.

There is no doubt the times we are living through, are particularly difficult to comprehend, but for Darrell and me, we are well used to turmoil and everything that entails. Today, sat at the kitchen table, I was transported away to another world, which seems a lifetime away.

All of us learn to cope with distressing events in our own way; as a rule, I tend to  write about my thoughts and feelings, it helps me look back at events that most people tend to block out, brush off or not even notice. Then there are rare occasions like today, when I am happy to talk about circumstances that I otherwise wouldn't, but whatever medium I choose, I want to be sure that I am able to process my emotions and understand exactly what is going on.

There is no doubt, I have been feeling pretty down over the last week or so, in fact far more than I usually do, considering my current situation. There is a lot going on around me, changes I am not necessarily comfortable with, and I am longing for a change in direction, which is easier said than done. Trying to change your life in the middle of a pandemic is more than just a little frustrating, it is a nightmare. There is absolutely nothing I can do about the way I feel and have no control over the path I am currently travelling. No matter how hard I try, voice my anger or shout and scream, I don't seem to be able to make myself heard. Today I am beginning to sink into a dark place I have tried so hard to avoid.

Easter signifies renewal and rebirth, and normally it has always set the tone for the rest of the year ahead. Personally, in my life, I see nothing but more of the same; I seem to be going backwards and not in a particularly positive way. This Easter has just shown how tough my life has become, and I am deluded if I think, even for one moment, anything different. My current state of mind and psyche is very difficult to describe, but I get the feeling the World is against me, and I am the one suffering, while everyone else gets away with murder. The reality is, I am not in a good place and I can't do anything to lift myself out of the dark hole I am currently in.

Easter this year, has been yet another occasion where I have been separated from Darrell. With all the other insecurities, my fragile state of mind, self-doubt and general feeling of detachment, I have started to feel downhearted and melancholy, in a way I haven't for many years. For me, these are worrying signs and not something to be ignored.

For now, I am carrying on as normal, aware of my current mindset and fully understand what I have to do to move forwards positively once again. All the time my life is on hold, I can do very little to change the way I feel. I hope I can gradually lift myself enough to shake these feelings of isolation and depression and get back to the person I know I am deep down.

This isn't a very uplifting blog today, but I would be lying to you and myself if I wrote something that didn't reflect the current level of despondency I feel!