When I moved out of my parents house in 2010, it was a time to celebrate, because I was finally well enough to move on and live in my own place with my boyfriend, but it was also an extremely sad day because I had to leave behind my companion, my carer and often my reason for getting out of bed for the past 5 years, the family German Shepherd dog called Masti.
I would go and visit him (and the rest of the family) quite often as they only live a few towns west from where I am in London. But as I became more and more ill, travelling on trains became more difficult. As I write this, it has been almost 3 months since I visited and I miss my family and especially Masti so much.
