I've been in bed for a week with some fucking virus, not right in bed, on the sofa under a duvet-mountain during the day, all achy and shivery and full of wibbly wobbly terrors.

I fucked up on facebook, horrifically, and deleted my account. Now I realise that my Real Life is virtually empty beyond my family and even they don't rush to contact me - apart from Son and YD, it's always me who calls or visits, always.

I can understand this, as I am full of despair, barely concealed at the best of times and there hasn't been much best.

So yesterday I was lying on the sofa, scrolling through facebook on my phone when I saw a link about a little girl who died by sucking the metal bit on the end of a mobile phone charger while it was plugged in. I thought of my niece's kids, crawling about putting everything in their mouths and shared the link. There was a picture of a guy holding a little girl which I barely glanced at, beyond noting that the guy looked a bit like niece's husband and getting a jolt from the anguish in his eyes that stared straight at the viewer. Some people shared it before J posted another link from that hoax-discovery site whose name I forget, saying that it was nothing to do with phones, something about Iran that I didn't read, I was just glad it was a hoax.

Later I got a call from YD asking why I'd posted a pic of a dead child. And it was, I don't know how I didn't see it, but I didn't, I guess I thought it was make up or something but it didn't occur to me for a moment that any fucker would post a photo of anything so awful as a real dead girl, but they do and now that I know that I'm done, I cannot get myself far enough away. I am operating on full medication, tranquillised to hell and back but I am still sickened with myself for putting that pic out there, for mentioning my niece's children underneath it, for being anything to do with this vile world.