Martin Bryan, 34, Dumbarton
Watching from the window, I waited for Dad's car to disappear.
As soon as it did, I headed to the shops.
This was my routine.
A healthy dinner with my dad Michael, then 58, then a second course in secret.
A shopping basket of junk.
Packets of crisps, a sharing bag of chocolates.
A full packet of biscuits.
I knew it was unhealthy and yet, I couldn't stop.
After my mum Margaret, 46, died, I'd spiralled.
She'd always been my biggest supporter.
My best friend, she was the first person I came out to when I was 16 years old.
So, losing her two months before my 21st birthday to brain cancer,
