I’ve just seen a suicide note she wrote. I don’t know when she wrote it. I’m worried. I don’t want her to kill herself. I don’t know how she’d try. When I think of her dying I cry. I don’t want her to die. The truth is that she and Dad have always been my home, my anchor, my place of safety. Always. Even now, she’s there, she’s constant, never telling me off, always loving me, despite it all. If she goes then Dad is gone too and everything that was good in my life, my wonderful childhood. I don’t want to let go. I think she does but she’s scared. I’ll talk about it with her tomorrow. It’s after midnight now.