The place I call home, the place where I was an innocent victim of the Omagh Bomb. 10 years on and so called peace, I'm eventually getting my life back together again, haven't had a nightmare in a long time, I can go in town centres again, even stop and have a cup of coffee. I can even hear the sound of sirens without having a panic attack, great. This week it's all come back to haunt me, 3 people shot dead, 2 by the 'Real IRA' who planted the Omagh Bomb and 1 by so called Dissident Republicans. Last night the nightmares returned, today I am anxious, nervous, hypervigilant, irritable, tired, feeling nauseous and just a general feeling of doom and gloom. I think of Barry, a boy of 12 when he saw things in Omagh that no one should ever have to, a young man of 20, a member of Sf who in 2007 could bear the pain no longer and ended his life. Sorry I'm just rambling here, I have to somehow prevent myself from sliding down into the darkness again.