Sad News

Yesterday I heard that someone had died. The obituary didn't say how, but it would have been by taking his life or by self-neglect as he wouldn't eat or drink a lot of the time. 

May the deceased rest in eternal peace and may his loved ones know peace and comfort. 

A year ago that person asked me to help him to take his life. 

It was a terrifying and stressful time a year ago, he'd tried to get the means to take his life, and couldn't.
Sadly although he meant it, his friends brushed it off and said 'He's always doing that, ignore him' but I couldn't, so I, with no experience of mental health teams and so on, managed to persuade them that he wouldn't speak by phone or call out to them as he was a recluse and in despair. 

Although they called out, took action, worked with him, it wasn't possible to give him a spark, a reason to want to live, but I entrusted it to them as I would be gone and they are professionals and took the matter seriously, credit to them, their human and concerned approach was appreciated. I was included as if I was a family member, both by them and by him, but while I was there he was open that he wanted to die, and nothing, not friends, not activities, nothing in his life gave him something he wanted to live for.

This is what I wrote at the time: 

https://lifeforce198.blogspot.com/2025/08/its-hard-to-know-what-to-do-when-youre.html

As a result of this and the other suicide mentioned, and my sister's suicidal behaviour when I was young, I went on to train in suicide prevention and other mental health topics, so a legacy of the recently deceased is that I can help others who are in distress. I am very glad that Limerick has two dedicated and compassionate suicide prevention teams who patrol the Shannon edges, they help many people, but a person can decide to take their life anywhere and not always with advance warning that others notice. 

God rest his soul. Sleep well, brother, I know it was so tough and you hurt so much every day and waited because you felt that was all you could do, but your friends will miss you a lot. 

I am sorry to say that I still wont always say the right thing or word things correctly, I am human, and I am struggling myself although not suicidal, as the man who left me on the streets of Limerick two years ago is doing a prolonged faux celebrity stunt run in the press which disrupts my life and work, he's been at it since March, and he's using a long dead politician who was as bad as himself as a prop for that. 

We all have mental health and a need for support, and for me this is particularly difficult as people who have abused me, including the man who left me on the streets of Limerick, used 'Mental health' as a term to try to excuse what they did to me because of my reaction, so the term still traumatises me and makes seeking help hard. But we all have mental and physical health, and in the current climate, getting help can be hard. My late friend had stopped seeking help because he didn't find help that helped, he'd stopped talking because no one heard him. 

I am fortunate in having a good boss and several friends who I can be open with about my distress, about the shock of yesterday's news, it's important to talk, so please do. 

A clumsy prose in memory:

https://castletroywords.blogspot.com/2026/08/goodnight-brother.html

Letting Go

 Good afternoon and so on. 

I am working on self-help. YouTube has some great CBT videos, there are series, well worth it. 

Being flexible and believing in change help. 

I have been using a CBT programme to see how best to cope with my wrong wiring, and one thing I'm learning about is to channel the intensity which comes from being wired wrong. To focus the panicked instinctive life and death mode which comes from real life and death situations in my past. Essentially using my brain in different ways will help. I was advised of some apps to help keep my brain focused and training, the brain is quite able, some neurological pathways are dark, I am hopeless with lines and numbers, logic. But I decided from recent events that nothing is impossible, I may as well try to wake that part of my brain. 

It's the weekend so I am watching videos while also doing poetry and short story entries. Life has so much in it. I described this while in peer support like this: 

'There are so many stars in the sky'. During recent times stars have come into my musical sound-track for life. Two songs especially, 'The Call' by Regina Spektor 'Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow where it leads...' and then from the recent Christmas 'God Bless us every one' from 'A Christmas Carol' - 'Star by Star in the Sky and kindness by human kindness, let me love till I die and God bless us every one'. Both songs are about change, revolution. A Christmas Carol is about someone waking up, coming out of their cave, and I hope that's what I'm doing. The Call is often linked to action film sound tracks but the words are interesting. 

Another Song I like at the moment is 'The Cave', I always did, some songs from my past have moved to the present. The Cave has a lot in it which not everyone will hear, it goes from The Bible to Odysseus to the analogy of The Cave and boots around many things while being a modern song about relationships and reactions. It reminds me strongly of recent events in my life and how some of those events woke me with a jolt. 

Life changes, evolves, revolves, it's better to evolve than be stuck. Sometimes change means letting go, and it can hurt, and it can be uncertain when you're letting go of one thing to grab another. 

Build a sky full of stars, so when you have to let go of a thing, person or place which you loved or bonded to, you can look at your other stars and keep going forward. 

He's gone

I heard today that my friend had died and I wrote this. 

He’s gone—

the news arrived today.

He’s gone,

so far away.

His voice, his smile, his gentle grace,

live only now in memory’s space.

No more upon the clifftop high,

laughing as the seabirds fly,

watching basking sharks below,

his joy a light, a steady glow.

No longer at the front he’ll stand,

words of comfort close at hand;

that smile we cherished, kind and true,

a gift the world no longer knew.

He’s gone—

and none can take his place.

He walks in heaven, face to face

with our Lord, his journey done—

no longer bound, but home, at one.

It's hard to know what to do when you're actually confronted by it

In this post I refer to a previous attempted suicide where myself and my friend intervened, on this old post: 

https://lifeforce198.blogspot.com/2024/12/gerry-and-incident-in-dublin.html

I often blog about reasons to live. This blog was originally a mental wellness and suicide prevention blog, but I have so much going on that I barely have time to come up with posts on mental wellness and quality of life.

This evening I was sitting in bed, I was tired and didn't intend to take my writing downstairs as usual, so I was sitting up watching the Addams Family and just vaguely warming up to write. I'm writing a new novel 'Empire's Survivor' if I haven't already mentioned it. Anyway my friend came into my room. Unusual but okay. He sat on my bed and told me he was suicidal. 

I'm supposed to have some training and knowledge, but in the training they teach you how to deal with suicidal strangers, bridge jumpers and so on. And as you know, I've dealt with such a scenario once and we saved her, but a friend coming to you in this state is a different matter and I was sitting with my laptop, not expecting this at all. I was totally thrown.

He told me that our other friend wouldn't help him, that he wanted a gun and our friend wouldn't bring his gun. (it turns out he no longer has a gun), anyway, he wanted me to get a gun. I talked to him about gun law and how if anyone brought him a gun they'd be arrested, and we didn't want him dead. 

He needed to talk and to be with someone, and that was fine, you know how I am, a troubled autistic person with many bad memories, so I felt at a bit of a loss here, but of course I wanted to help him. 

I asked him to talk to me. In the training you're taught to ask the person's name and introduce yourself to build a bond and make the person feel they're not alone, which didn't work with the semi-conscious suicide attempt in Dublin and would be no use with my friend. He sat on the bed and asked me if I'd get him a gun. He told me he'd asked at the gun shop but as he wasn't part of a gun club, they wouldn't let him have a gun. 

I texted the manager of the mental health charity but he wasn't much help. He said that I should phone the guards, this wouldn't help much. I texted our friend and he told me to just listen to him and be there for him and that he said these things to all his friends. Okay, I understand that but why can't something be done? Why is no one being more proactive? I guess many people find it hard like this when someone they know tells them they're suicidal. 

I explained gun laws to him, no one can get him a gun for suicide without being arrested. I looked up resources. I've done some volunteering with Pieta House, and so I emailed the person I had contact with there. In the end I phoned his psychiatry clinic with his consent and he left a message asking for a nurse to call out. 

He says he hasn't been able to sleep properly for years, he's troubled by a voice in his head. He's become very depressed with lack of sleep and lack of quality of life with the voice in his head. It's a tough one. Really I would imagine the only solution would be to change his medications, but he says no, and he saw his psychiatrist today and didn't tell them what was on his mind. So really it's hard to do much unless someone proactively liaises with his mental health team. 

He went back to his room to rest, and talked with me a bit longer later, mainly about the lack of sleep. You can imagine it's hard to do anything when you can't do anything. I just listened and sympathized. I hope the clinic can take his message seriously and someone can come round. 

Suicidal thoughts and actions impact on people around the person who is suffering. 

As previously mentioned, if someone is suicidal, they can get trapped in a dark tunnel of despair and not see a way out or a time when the problem isn't a problem. So if this man hasn't been sleeping for a long time, it's hard for him to see anything different. I remember what I'm like when I miss one night's sleep, I get physically and emotionally sick very easily, so it must be bad to have missed so much sleep. To choose life, there have to be things to live for, and without sleep, everything can be affected, it can be hard to see any positives. 

Update on that. 

I liaised with this friend's psychiatric team and pushed them to call out as they tried to ignore the request and phone him or ask him to go to them, which he wouldn't. They'd been unaware of how bad things were, and met with me and him and continued proactive contact, and as I left the situation, I left it with them and trusted they'd handle it. 

Limerick, your arms are still holding me - 9 month Anniversary

It's been a busy time. Last time I wrote I had the joy and honour of helping with Darkness into Light Limerick 2025. It was a great day and went back to back with another role I do, where I go picking litter.

There are many people in the world who would scoff at picking litter, why would anyone choose to do it? Isn't it a punishment for people doing community service? 

No, it's a wonderful thing to do, picking up rubbish that people have discarded, notably around benches and walls and in flower beds and hedges where people throw rubbish. When I worked with Tidy Towns in Dublin, we would pick litter by a pub with a roof terrace and the amount of intact beer glasses and alcohol bottles fished out of the hedge intact was stunning. 

The kind of people who choose to get up early on a weekend and pick litter are some of the best company in the world, they truly are, salt of the earth. If you're feeling unhappy with your social circle, come litter picking. As an autistic person, I will always be a quiet person, will always struggle to communicate in social situations, but what helps me is attending a volunteer event where everyone has such good in their hearts that they choose to be there and to do good, not for praise or acclaim but because they care, because they are motivated, because they are kind. I feel safe with such people and more able to relax and talk.

One of the best things you can do for your mental health is go volunteering, and sometimes the best time to do that is when you feel least like doing that. I felt bad and didn't want to get up in the morning, but I'm very glad I did. I'm glad I did something useful and met with good people, it helps me to recover from my recent bad experience. 

Don't worry, we don't abandon the bags there.

The wonderful 'Serve the City' team who I litter pick with, who also run services such as soup kitchens and language exchange for migrants who want to improve their English. Serve the City were some of the first people I met when I came to Limerick, and meeting them gave me hope of a future here. 

It's been a difficult two weeks for me since I was violently attacked by addicts in town and put in hospital, on a Saturday of all days, my favourite day to be in Limerick and be around the people who I admire so much because they looked after me so well when I was homeless. Two weeks of pain and anxiety and depression and my landscape changing. I'm still suffering pain because it hit my disabilities and old injuries hard, and I wasn't feeling too well today but I got out of bed and went litterpicking willingly, looked forward to it and was happy, after two weeks of struggling to get up and function. I am getting back to normal.

Thursday this past week was a great day for me, as I passed my First Aid Responder course well and I'd enjoyed the course a lot. I actually turned up with concussion after being attacked as it's an intensive course and we were told not to miss a single session. My horrified instructor told me I could only audit the practicals that week, which was better than missing out, and in the end my practical exam seemed to come out perfect, so I was delighted. I'm so happy. First Aid is a vital skill and due to my circumstances I've waited years to re-qualify. 

Let me tell you the story of how I first met the litterpicking team. I'm a community volunteer but they are not on the community volunteering list. I arrived in Limerick 9 months ago, shocked, hypothermic and soaked by the rain, and covered in ECG pads from a heart scare caused by the circumstances which left me homeless on the streets of Limerick when I'd been expecting to come to a tenancy and a bright future.

It was Friday September 13th, in the evening, and I was obviously not okay when I was first on the streets of Limerick, and from the moment I arrived, people showed care and concern for me, they looked after me, and that saved me, and eventually, as the support was unwavering and strong, I was able to start rebuilding my life. 

It was Saturday September 14th, 9 months ago today, that after no sleep overnight on the streets of Limerick, I walked down to Arthurs Quay, having dried out naturally and calmed down because the people who kept me company overnight were so funny and cheered me up, at Arthurs Quay I stumbled across a group who were litter picking and I wondered if it was Tidy Towns, who I'd worked with in Dublin, but no, I'd never heard of the group but they were friendly and inclusive and had sweets and coffee afterwards, so I took a liking to them. It was a hopeful turn to events and just in that short time, I realised I could have a future in Limerick, just that it would be different to the one I'd been led to expect. 

Today I was honoured to be with this same team, different location, lovely people, to litter pick again. It makes me so happy, I can't fully explain why, but it makes me so happy. I didn't join them for coffee, as I said, I'm still suffering the after effects of being seriously injured and I said goodbye as the group went for coffee, and walked down to the church, my Limerick on a Saturday was to be reduced to just the litterpicking and my routine prayers at church, and then I headed home to rest.

The good in Limerick outweighs the bad. An honour and a pleasure to work with these people. 

As I walked down to the church, there was no sign of the huge ugly brewing trouble that played a part in the attack on me two weeks ago. Maybe I didn't see anything, maybe I didn't want to, or maybe because the Gardai and others are fully aware of what's been going on, something is being done, good on them if so. It was my Limerick on a Saturday again as I briefly popped in to do my prayers and walked back up to the bus, if I'd been feeling better, I would have stayed around, but I got groceries delivered, I'm not in a library mood and I still need to adjust after what happened, I'm not comfortable sitting or stopping in town yet. 

I get the bus to the end of the route where my bike waits for me. It was a funny day for people asking me for all sorts of directions to place and asking when buses were, maybe because I kept my hi-viz vest on, I wear it when I bike to and from the bus and we wear them for litter picking as well, so people must have thought I was someone and they were asking me a range of questions and directions from easy to impossible and I did my best. Ballybunnion and The Crescent Shopping Centre are okay, but don't throw anything more complex at me. Yikes, I think the last one, no matter where I tried to direct them, they'd still end up in the wrong place. 

I knew as I walked through town that my Limerick hasn't gone just because some irrational and violent people attacked me.  The good people are still here and the Spirit of Limerick is stronger than the current troubles. Your arms are still holding me, and my arms are holding you. 

The Limerick Love Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdjRmM0Q0qs

When you suffer trauma

 

King John's Castle and Thomond Bridge, Limerick.

When you suffer trauma, everything can replay in your head over and over, and at the same time you can have feelings of self-blame, worthlessness, badness, I find I'm worse when I have a relapse in the physical illness. 

It is normal to have days of emotion and sadness with trauma, tough but normal, and the best thing to do is rest, look after yourself, try to do something practical or read, listen to music, survive. 

Remember, you are not to blame for everything you've experienced which has hurt you in life, you are not to blame for other people hurting you, and reactions are reactions, be kind to yourself.

I take a vitamin and iron supplement, I find it helps my mood, and if I'm very down, I take some extra vitamin B, not vitamin C or D, vitamin B.

Grit your teeth, survive. Live. You are alive, as REM sings. There is so much hope and potential. It may not seem that way, but get creative and find the hope and potential. 

I'm better than I was yesterday but not up to telling stories about County Clare, so I'll leave it at that, as I struggle with feelings and emotions today, I'll say to you, be kind to yourself and understand that on bad days it is is easy to try to take the blame for the whole world and their crass opinions, but think of the good in you, and most people do have good. I am clean and tidy, honest and quiet and occasionally friendly and gentle.

love, 

A 

Limerick on a Saturday

I am neglecting 'The Road to Shannon' to write on this blog again, tut. And in case you're not indoctrinated, it's not because The Road to Shannon is paved with good intentions, it never was. I just prefer 198 to Shannon now. 

I've not been well. Quite a bad relapse. I have a metabolic or autoimmune condition which relapses and remits, it can hit hard and I am usually in relapse well before I realise it. The condition presents with aches and pains, tiredness not relieved by rest, increased difficulty walking, muscle fatigue and sudden muscle failure, depression, flashbacks, nightmares and disturbed sleep or trouble sleeping at all. 

Relapse isn't surprising as I've been out it very cold and wet conditions all week. It's been an endurance. And it's not just me, a rough sleeper friend who has been homeless most of his life was saying to me he's absolutely sick of this homeless life and the relentless weather.

I did wonder if I've also picked up a cold or virus and the cheap place I stayed recently had someone coughing and sneezing everywhere as well as slamming doors and shouting into their phone all night. I haven't felt well at all. 

I had a bad night and was having bad dreams about the man who left me homeless in Limerick. I went into town in a miserable mood, tired and aching. And then there I was in Limerick and the world became magical again.

As soon as I was in Limerick, people who I knew were around, there were hugs and chats and fist bumps and handshakes and laughter. My mood lifted straight away. I went to church as usual for my Saturday prayer, and sat on my wall as usual. I enjoyed the hustle and bustle of town on a Saturday and I said 'Limerick, I love you'. Limerick whispered back 'My arms are holding you'. As always, every day I'm in Limerick, the Limerick Love Song is in my head. 

Someone who went past told me they'd bring me food, so I waited, and my friend came and sat with me, he wanted to go for coffee but I told him someone was bringing me lunch, so he came back later and we went to a new coffee place, good prices and good coffee, so that was nice. Last week I told him about the man who left me on the streets, and he said 'That's not a friend, this is what friends do, we have coffee, we chat, we relate to each other'. 

Getting out and talking to people is important, especially when you're feeling bad and want to hide away, it can change things. I have had a lovely day in town. Life is tough but good people make it more bearable. Saturday is the best day to be in Limerick, everyone's around.

My arm is being twisted to tell the Clarecastle Mass story, someone in Shannon is going bright red at the thought while she is in Vigil Mass. Go on then.

So in Clarecastle, Mass is the third sport after Hurling and Hurling Missiles. Paddy is a well-known figure in Clarecastle, the missiles miraculously avoid Paddy, everyone loves him, Paddy, he likes his pint, he's a man. 

Paddy is always at Mass 10 minutes early and he has his seat at the front, no one else will take Paddy's seat, it's a small community and everyone knows their place. 

Paddy never misses Mass and is always in his seat. But one Saturday night, one drink turns into another and one story turns into another, and before Paddy knows it, it's morning. He's far from the first to go from drinking to Mass, Philip and the lads used to do this, but poor Paddy, he's taking it slowly down to the church, he's a little weary. 

Paddy is late for Mass! He goes in, his seat is empty, waiting for him. Mass has started but it's only in the first few minutes. Paddy walks up the aisle. He walks to the front. The priest is speaking. 

Paddy goes up, he says to the priest 'Look father, I'm late, you're just going to have to start again from the beginning',

The priest starts the Mass again from the beginning. 

Thanks for being good sports, Clarecastle. I'll do Ennis next.

+++++

When you feel at your worst, don't hide away, go and be among people a bit, even Angela did in The Limerick Love Story: 

Angela looked out into the dark, snow was falling lightly. 4 am. She dressed and headed out quietly, walking down the hill into town. Standing on O'Connell, she gazed at the Christmas lights as she did every day, with the wonder of a young child. She loved the silver teardrops, the coloured tree lights, and the Christmas trees. She watched the snow fall gently through the lights 'Beautiful'. She gathered snow off the low walls and benches to build a small snowman.

The Garda truck was taking it easy in its journey along O'Connell and slowed even more to see a woman building a snowman at 5.30 in the morning. Angela looked up and waved at the watching Gardai. The driver raised his finger and they moved on, deciding she was harmless enough. 'I have to get away from the nightmares' she told the retreating back of the Garda truck, but no one heard her. After a while she went into the gossip cafe and got a tea to take with her to her doorway. 

----

Michael was drained but relaxed from making love to Graeme as he walked through town to work with his coffee, enjoying the pre-Christmas atmosphere and lights. He tutted at Angela sitting on the step in the cold. 'You have a warm bed and breakfast and you've had a chest infection, Angela'. He shivered and pulled his wool coat round him, cold just to look at her in her cloth jacket. 

She sighed 'I have to get away from the nightmares, the bad feeling sometimes' .

Michael nodded 'I'll come and talk to you at lunchtime if you're around. I do understand what you're telling me. Try not to sit too long in the cold or bite too many legs'. 

----

At 12.15 Michael arrived with tea and coffee and a bundle. He handed Angela her tea and sat beside her. 'Drink your tea' he told her when she looked at the parcel he had with him.  She drank some tea, he opened the parcel. 'This is called a coat, it's designed to keep you warm'. 

'Ha'. 

'If you wear your coat, you get your treat, if not, you don't'. 

He could see she was interested but she wasn't going to ask what the treat was. Eventually she held out her hands for the coat, and he gently helped her to put it on, she didn't object. She made a lot of interesting faces and muttered her thanks. 

'Good girl, now gather your things and we'll go to your treat'.

'Where?' 

'I've finished work for the day, I only had a board meeting. We're going home to Graeme for the rest of the day to chill out and relax, have some fun and food'. He saw Angela smiling and he knew she was happy with the arrangement. They drove through the light snow, the snow wasn't impeding driving and didn't make great headway in settling, but enough to delight the children who were already getting hyped up for Christmas, Michael felt sorry for the parents, but remembered he'd have all that to look forward to. 

Angela's O'Connell Street in the snow. 

My Arms Are Holding You

Here I am in Castletroy, Limerick, one of my favourite places although not as favourite as Raheen and Dooradoyle or Ennis Road perhaps, or maybe Castletroy is my favourite now. I'm enjoying the view and the music and some good tea, I'm listening to the 198 theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sklYzudgOPU

Remember, 198 is a state of mind, a state of hope. We don't know the future and it may not be as we imagine, but while there's life, there's hope, we can look for ways forward. Sometimes it's hard to see how things can be better, things can feel so bitter, so unjust, unfair. Sometimes things happen which will never go away, and those things become scars, they can change our course and we are slightly different with each scar. 

On Saturday I joined a number of people supporting a protest of the family of a journalism student, Joe Drennan, who was killed within sight of where I am right now. Joe was killed by an unlicenced uninsured drug driver who was on bail for other offences. Sentencing in Ireland can be woefully inadequate, and he got off lightly and with his sentence for Joe's death running concurrently with his sentences for other offences and the others sentences earned him two and a half years more than his sentencing for killing Joe, despite the fact that he stopped at the scene to wipe his car off, and left Joe for dead. It is hard to imagine how bad things are for Joe' family, he will never come back, but they are fighting for his killer to get a proper jail sentence. In Ireland, and I guess other places, you have to really fight for things. As I write this, the DPP, who were hostile, have agreed to an appeal on the sentence. I am happy to hear this but it won't bring Joe back. I hope his family don't mind posting this, I admire them for their fight for justice and their unwavering courage in speaking publicly about the tragedy. 

A lot has happened since Christmas, and while I've been on other writing projects, I haven't updated this blog. I have had two very terrible incidents occur in my life here, and also a lot has been going on in my country of citizenship which has an impact on me. Eventually I will have to return there to seek justice for the terrible things I've survived, and things are moving towards that now, things are changing for the better. or do I mean better, was being in limbo better because it didn't hurt so much?

Well. After telling you what a lovely Christmas that was, a sad and terrible incident occured and as a result I was in Limerick city centre on New Year's Eve in the pouring rain, with 2025 not starting as hoped, but let's see what good I can bring out of this unexpected turn of events. Although that happened, and then another terrible incident since, I am okay, I am strengthened by the good people in my life and my faith, and at no point have I let thoughts of self-harm enter my life, because I understand that bad things happen in life, and things won't stay so bad forever. Some things won't go away, but the intensity of crisis does lessen, things change, we adapt or we force change when there's injustice. 

In the meantime, lets talk books. I started reading self help books as a teenager, trying to understand why I couldn't speak or relate to people.

I couldn't cope with counselling as a teenager when I left my family as I couldn't speak normally and the counsellor was a bit of a perv, you do not need the rest of that story, I promise you, not at the moment anyway, so at the time I got myself a book called 'Be your own Counsellor'. My first self help book. I'm sorry to say I can't remember the author's name, but I found it helpful and it started my understanding of the concept of self-reliance. I am naturally self- reliant due to having attachment disorder as a result of neglect as a child but have had a tendency, as many vulnerable people do, to struggle with life and to let other people take over, usually unsuitable people who add to the damage.

I got hooked on the self-help bug, and I got tapes as well as books, my two main authors at first were Susan Jeffers and Louise L. Hay. 

As life moved on, I discovered Tony Robbins and others, and continued to work my way through a minefield of self help books and tapes telling me how to live, as well as affirmation tapes. I think it was a good thing, however confusing it may have become, because I'd missed out on a childhood of normal instruction on how to live and behave, and now I was learning quite cutting edge techniques on how to live and behave, and I think it saved me and helped me to go on functioning through everything. 

I still think self-help books are great, I make a pile of them and sit on them to watch television. Joking aside, if you're stuck for inspiration and a way forward, there are many books in the library and bookshops on many helpful topics. 

At the moment I'm back into non-fiction, going mad for good murder mysteries. I'm reading like I'm demented and getting through a lot of books.

I'm a writer, as I've probably mentioned, and I currently have two main works 'The Road to Shannon' and 'The Limerick Love Story'. The Limerick Love Story is about an eccentric homeless woman who was befriended by a well-to-do gay couple. I started writing this on the streets of Limerick in October last year and fell in love with the book itself while also falling in love with Limerick, it has been my favourite manuscript so far. Writing is a magical thing, like music, it can help express your emotions and feelings, anger and sorrow, grief, confusion, it can help you through. 

Sometimes good can come from bad, sometimes we have to find someone or something to hold onto. When I was left on the streets of Limerick by that @@@@, I held onto God, as it says in the words of the Limerick Love Song 'My Arms are Holding You'. I'm still holding onto God. You may not believe in God, but hopefully you can find someone, something to hold onto. 

I have to boast about my manuscript, so I'll give you snippet, which shows why it's the Limerick Love Story, because it's not just about the characters, but about the city and county as well:

'Now she can look up all those things that puzzle her like 'What is orange?', 'Why are people?' and 'Is the moon?'. Graeme saw them to the door 'See you soon Ange, text anytime'. 

As they drove, Angela asked about the rivers. 'The one behind us is the Groody' Michael told her 'The one at the top of Annacotty is called the Mulkear, the Salmon River, one of the best in Ireland for Salmon and trout, which rises in the Silvermines and flows into the Shannon and then the Shannon runs behind the university'.  He glanced at her, almost seeing a map being written in her mind, she loved to know more about places, and he'd heard her and Graeme swapping Pig Buyer stories as if she was a native of King's Island. Where she'd learned the Pig Buyer stories was a mystery, the girl was keeping bad company somewhere. 

'Do you know where the Silvermines are, Angela?' 

Angela hummed 'Any Tipperary Town' for him. 

'The Groody rises in County Limerick, it isn't a very big or long river, and it flows into the Shannon as well. the two rivers meet the Shannon either side of Plassey, where the university is'. 

'Groody'. Angela giggled 'It sounds like a mean old man in a children's book'. 

Michael smiled 'So it does. The Shannon is your favourite, for baptising Dassin when he pesters you'.

'He's got religion now, I threw a Bible at him as well'. 

Now, so do you think you'll be okay back at the bed and breakfast now?' 

Angela glanced at the iPad in her arms and nodded. 

Michael laughed 'Silly question, you're embracing your old friend there and can't wait for the two of you to be alone together. Try to get some sleep though, but enjoy some tea, duvet and iPad first, and we'll be up for you on Christmas Eve but you and Graeme will be texting away no doubt'. 

__

The Groody and flood plain from Dublin Road, looking towards Plassey and the Clare and Tipperary Hills in the rain.

The Salmon Leap on the Mulkear at Annacotty.