Sorry to hear your news. The present Mrs Skipjack is a fellow sufferer, and so I list myself as a 'carer'. I understand well the feelings you speak of, of social agoraphobia, and low self esteem, as I see them so large in my partner.

It also made me wince when I remembered that rasping Brendy gave you, but the poor fella weren't to know.

I don't have any inspired suggestions, other than don't give in to it, try and make yourself go out, just play in the background rather than sing up front, and choose just one musician to approach, one who seems moved by the same style or tradition as you.

It's a real bastard, and the dope the witchdoctors push is IMO a dangerous mask, but I can fairly say that making music is my release from the cares of caring.

Skipjack