Today I lost an old friend to mental health. He hung himself and his mother found him after a couple of days of no texts from him. Swinging from a tree in his garden.

I spoke to him the same night. Sounded fine but kinda knew something was up. Always knowing it could be him but not being able to say that directly. Considering bud ill help. Dont do that to us and your family. Even offered him to stay with me.

Saddest thing is that he has gone through almost the same things as myself. I love to act like I'm all ok, but I battled years of alcohol addiction, then codeine. Only the last year have I sorted that all out. Fuck knows why I put this shit out here when I can't even tell

the missus, who has supported me all the way.

I've been there myself. I went through about 14 yesterday of watching my mother get her head kicked in by whatever boyfriend she had at the time. Less if as a boy I jumped in and took the beating

The big orange dude who owned the crimson Hall in Renfrew, didn't mind beating shit out of women. Or kids for that matter.

Couldn't speak when challenged on his hatred. Used to wait till 3-4am on my mum to come from Govan to pick me up in ayr

Every time her face would be battered to a pulp. Almost unable to speak. But would always come, even if as a child I had to witness that

Didn't matter much, we both knew what we were going back to. She would try to calm it and I would take the kicking

Tried telling my family at the time but they didn't believe it in the beginning

Became a regular thing, mum with her face smashed in, me kicked into the spare room. I tried telling authorities but at that time no one would take on some pretend gangster.

Then at about the age of 15-16 my sister seen what was happening and dragged me to Kincardine to work in a nursing home and live in her spare house. Unfortunately my mum invited the dickheads with her. Another year of getting booted about

Saddest thing was my neighbours wife was dying of cancer. I never knew this, but after she passed he attacked our house

When I went out to talk to him, he was in his 70s, he broke down about how much his dying wife couldn't live with hearing my mum getting beaten up

It was soon after that, that I was woken up about 2am to hear my mum screaming. I dunno how but I went down stairs, picked up a baton of wood and lost it with her partner.

He threatened to have me killed after knocking him out by his Glasgow boys. But once they learnt most my family were paramilitaries during the troubles they shut the fuck up. My mum now lives in Ireland where she belongs and no one gives her that grief