TRUE-LIFE
Ruth Braddock, 67, Nottingham
Peeling a shiny red bow off a brightly wrapped parcel, my daughter Danielle stuck it to her head and laughed.
It was Christmas Day 2002 and Danielle, then 12, was entertaining me, her sister Sarah, 25, and stepdad Tony, 47.
‘Today's my best day of the year,’ Danielle whooped.
Like most families, we'd open gifts around the tree, followed by roast turkey, games and telly.
Only, in December 2009, aged 19, she wasn't her usual festive self.
Yawning as we strung up fairy lights.
Opening her gifts, then spending the day dozing.
In fact, she was wiped out well into
