It’s 12:24am and there is a million and one things I should be writing – the work experience report, the 18,000 word MA final project for example. And yet the impending date of 14th July is all that is on my mind. I don’t want this date to be ominous; I don’t want to look at the calendar with increasing fear as each year passes but I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m not writing this to invite pity or make other people feel uncomfortable but this time last year I felt so powerless to control the whirlwind that was happening around me, I hope that by committing my experience to the page I can try to figure out what the hell happened to me last year and find some way of being at peace with it. Surely as a “journalist in training” words can be my tool or weapon – writing about other topics has temporarily abandoned me so by spilling about Mum I hope to unlock my abilities again and get back to writing.