I scream. A lot. When I can. That is, when no-one else is in the house (although it does scare the dog) or when I am driving along in the car on my own, that horrible empty place in the back behind me. I don't know if this is a phase or if I will ever stop screaming. Today I have screamed a lot to make up for the last few days away on our long-time planned holiday with two other families, when I had to hold it all in till the sight of the other families' little boys became too much. So then we had to leave. We tried, but it was too soon. We don't need rest; we need activity.

A relative has sent us a book about sadness aimed at children which I have read with Izzy, my 6-year old daughter. It is by Michael Rosen and is called Sad Book. Quentin Blake is the illustrater (he who collaborated with Roald Dahl). So the images are familiar. It's a story by and about a man who lost his son. On one page it says, "Sometimes because I am sad I do crazy things - like shouting in the shower... banging a spoon on the table... or making my cheeks go whooph, booph, whooph."

I recognise this. Of this last one, I have flashbacks of 'the day' that give me momentary panic attacks. Suddenly the image of William in the pool hits me, vivid like I am seeing it right there and then. These mini panic attacks make my cheeks go whooph, booph, whooph. Next week I have my first EMDR (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_movement_desensitization_and_reprocessing) session booked in. This is a bit like Cognitive Behavioural Therapy but using eye movements too - it's aim is to take a vivid image in your mind and to try and put it somewhere further back. I don't know if this will work, but I have to try something and at least it will fill an hour or two. I am also seeing a psychiatrist once a week.

So today, around the screaming and tears, I have managed to unpack the suitcases and attempt to get on top of my Kiddiekit work (this is what I do: www.kiddiekitrentals.com) - contracts and orders to prepare. Can you imagine a harder business to be in right now? Michael Rosen's book says he tries to do one positive thing every day. Well that's it for me. There's no way I have the mental strength to go to the supermarket (empty place in the trolley in front of me, loads of little boys) so we have no food, but Olivier has set off to do this for me (even though the list included my 'feminine hygiene products'). Bless. So maybe I might end up eating something today after all.