It's taken me seven years to summon up the courage to write anything about the death of Josh. There's always been a lot of residual guilt (this is common when a sibling dies) but I could no more help that Dale died due to a 'cot death' than I could that the mental health services let my brother Josh so horrifically.
Losing someone you love is difficult enough, living without someone you love is heartbreaking enough, living day by day is exhausting enough without the added frustrations and torments contributed by those who exclude and patronise those living with grief. The patronising comments and exclusion are usually unintended, I know. That knowledge does not make the sting any less, though.
I have a number of arthritic conditions that cause me daily pain but this dulls into insignificance when compared to the physical pain and mental anguish I am going through now as I mourn both my parents. It is with a very heavy heart that I write this. I know that time will help but at this moment I can't see that far ahead.