John Lydon feels "terrifically lonely" following the death of his wife Nora

He told The Sunday Times newspaper: "I bounce about in the day but the loneliness of Nora not being here kills me."

John went on to reveal his life has totally changed and he can't even bring himself to cook proper meals for himself now he's living alone.

He added: "I used to love cooking for Nora, and now I go for the stupid fatty things. It just seems pointless and selfish to sit here and eat a designer meal that I've concocted and can't share with her."

John went on to confess he feels worst during the evenings and drowning his sorrows with booze has not helped. He went on: "At night it's terrifically lonely. That's when all the memories keep flooding back and they won't leave you alone. Y

"You think you can drown yourself in alcohol, but you can't. Your body becomes immobile but your brain doesn't switch off, so booze doesn't help."

It comes after John opened up about the heartbreaking moment he had to give doctors permission to stop Nora's treatment because she was in "such pain".

He told Saga magazine: "It was like half of me went with her. Her last day was really painful for her. She was very short of breath and uncomfortable and I knew the end was coming.

"It was awfully hard in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Her heart stopped a few times and she was on respirators, being artificially kept alive. They said to me: 'We really can't do any more. Do we have your permission to stop?' and God, what a question to have to answer!"

John added that his wife - who died months after her 80th birthday - was in "such pain" that he couldn't realistically expect her to go on any longer and that even though the two years he was her full-time carer were "chaotic and frustrating", he still "misses" that time of his life fervently.

He said: "It was one of the most awful moments of my life. I had to give permission because she was in real pain and it would have been selfish to expect her to go on suffering like that. There were moments when it tore me apart. I needed helpers in at least one day a week, just so I could sit down and stop running around for a bit. It was chaotic, frustrating and mind-numbingly draining, but I loved taking care of her. I miss it like mad.

"I'm going on a tour where people can ask what they want and I'll answer as honestly as I can.

"There'll be karaoke and visuals too, if I can work the projector.

"Through this I hope to find a longing to continue. It's going to be splendid fun; think Norman Wisdom does philosophy."