Three years ago I lot my daughter Monica, I had what is called a late miscarriage at 22 weeks. It has always been nearly impossible to talk about what happened, even to my mum or to her father. I kept it all inside and it destroyed me. After I lost her, all I felt was despair, the world had no colour anymore, everything was dark, grey and pointless. I was in so much pain, felt so much rage and anguish, yet I was frozen, I was numb, I tried desperately to find another reality, escape from the hell I was in. And it's true hell is empty. At times I felt so much and at others it was like I felt nothing at all.

At the moment I'm chronically depressed. I'm not resentful towards others happiness anymore, not jealous of their healthy living children but my heart aches for her when I see a baby or a toddler the age she would be now. I feel both happiness and sadness when a friend announces their pregnancy. I like to think of her in heaven or what I would call the spirit world, being looked after by my grandparents and great grandparents. sometimes I can feel that she is here, sometimes I just know she is in the room with me (I became I spiritualist/ very involved in spiritualism after she died).

 I had a panic attack a few weeks back when I saw a toddler in the park, a little girl in a pink coat feeding the Pidgeon's. That should be her. I couldn't calm down, I sobbed uncontrollably, thinking of when I used to sit in the park when I was pregnant with her, talking to her, telling her how we would feed the birdies together one day, like I did with my mum. I made her this duck ornament and a paint your own pottery shop, called it her little ducky. Now it's back home in a draw and has been for years. I look at it sometimes, I think of her at peace and smile and others I cry because she never got a chance to live outside of me.

Sometimes I get so angry, I through stuff across the room. I threw my phone today. I have nobody I can talk to, not that I find it easy to talk about her at all. Usually I clam up after just one sentence or just say "what happened" it's like saying when I lost Monica is impossible, even to my own mother!

I live in a shared house, I'm a first year undergrad. I sit up here depressed most nights, unable to sleep. My housemates are the age I was when I lost her (18), yet they are so care free they haven't experienced and couldn't imagine this kind of grief. So I can't talk to them. Then there is my boyfriend, we have only been dating a couple of months, I can't even begin to talk to him, to have him know, as my ex boyfriend was so callous about it and said terrible sickening things about my daughter and how she died (the reason I broke up with him) Now my trust is gone. I don't want to bother Monica's father anymore, I have done so enough times this year. He has a happy life now, I know he isn't over it but I don't want to drag him back into what I'm going through, I know he is always there but I haven't called him in 2 weeks, even after spending the anniversary with him this year. I can't talk to my mum because I have done so so many times in the past few months. She is also a spiritualist and she likes to think of her in heaven and I don't want to ruin that by telling her how depressed and upset I still am and then upsetting her. It's been years but it still feels raw. I know this kind of pain never goes away. I haven't been to any lectures this week, I've just stayed here in my bed. The fact I have bipolar disorder just makes everything 10 times worse and I'm probably having an episode right now. I haven't showered or done my hair in days. I don't know why it is so hard for me to talk to people and just say "I had a daughter, I loved her more than anything in the world, she was my everything, she was my baby girl and I will always love her".

When I was talking about losing Monica to my doctor I looked at the floor, it was too much even to look him in the eyes, it was too painful just to do that. I can't even talk to therapists or counsellors it's too painful. I just feel so alone.