You use those words a lot when talking about your father.Which words do you mean? Hate. Hatred. You use those words a lot.That's because no other words come close to describing his festering animosity. I've looked for synonyms, but nothing competes with 'hatred' for characterising his cold, brutal, inhumanity.You don't know what it feels like … Continue reading Therapy? Part 3 →

The phone rang, and I answered it. It was mum. "Now listen!" she said. "We need your help." It was surprising that mum should phone, because this was during one of those periods when dad had banished me from New College. I had been ostracised six months previously, and wasn't anticipating any contact from them … Continue reading Granny’s Fall →

She had found equilibrium. She was living in a modest studio flat on Warwick Street. One small bedsitting room, together with a separate kitchen and bathroom. Enough space for herself and her dog. (A brief spell working at a Dog Rescue Centre had led to the inevitable acquisition of an Alsatian dog called Ike). The … Continue reading Equilibrium →

Hello again!Hello! I know you wanted to talk some more about your father's email this week, but I was wondering if we might explore your parents' lie that you walked out on them for 25 years?Yes, that's fine.I should warn you, though. It's complicated. I don't mind. I can handle complexity.It's also rather convoluted. I … Continue reading Therapy? Part 2 →