Dear Mr Chilton....

You won't read this. Just like your daughter.

But here goes.

Firstly, your daughter Sarah Chilton ended our relationship after almost two years, by simply posting my front door keys back to me.

Do you think this was the best way to end our relationship?

Why couldn't she speak to me after all that time we had spent together?

Do you think this was a mature, rational way for her to behave?

THE END....

Sarah Chilton Director of External Affairs for ABL Health ironically....

My emphasis (in bold).

"They are often voluble and verbally facile. They can be amusing and entertaining conversationalists, able to tell unlikely but convincing stories that cast themselves in a good light. They can be very effective in presenting themselves well and are often very likeable and charming.

They have a narcissistic and grossly inflated view of their own self-worth and importance, a truly astounding egocentricity and sense of entitlement, and see themselves as the centre of the universe, justified in living according to their own rules. One woman described these rules as "looking out for number one."

They show a stunning lack of concern for the effects their actions have on others, no matter how devastating these might be. They have no sense of guilt, are not sorry for the ensuing pain. Their lack of remorse or guilt is associated with a remarkable ability to rationalise their behaviour, to shrug off personal responsibility for actions that cause family, friends, and others to reel with shock and disappointment. They usually have handy excuses for their behaviour, and in some cases deny that it happened at all.

The Crash (Part 1)

A woman is at the centre of this. Inevitably.

Or rather, two women. Or maybe three. Perhaps, ultimately, even four. 

But that’s a story for later.

Safe to say, my world was crashing down on top of me.

I had been driving home along the motorway on a rare visit to my sister’s home when my emotions began overwhelming me once more, choking me. And I couldn’t breathe.

Sanctuary? Inside an NHS Mental Health Unit

The relief was palpable.

After three days in limbo at my daughter's flat in London, a place at a mental health unit had finally been found for me nearer home in Trafford.

Back up the motorway to Sanctuary.

First impressions were markedly different from 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.'

No dragooning, no strip search, more informal.

"This is much better, Dad", said my son.

I thought so too. It was now five Days since my suicide attempt.

At last, this was somewhere I would find help with the thoughts of Sarah and Angela still pounding through my head and heart.

I prayed that being here would soothe my very soul.

Care-less > Sarah's reckless response

SO, what was Sarah's response to my anniversary letter?

No empathy, compassion or understanding, of course.

No, she was wilfully care-less.

I got a phone call out of the blue from a police officer late on the Sunday night and several text messages. I returned his call next morning - voicemail. Sent texts to him - no response.

Then six days letter, I got a letter from this police officer.

Sarah had made a complaint about me.