The fog.

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Sometimes, getting out of bed is hard.

Like, really hard.

Sometimes, getting on with it means letting go.

And letting go is so hard it hurts.

Sometimes,  it hurts so much that keeping on going  is unbearable.

And despite all of that, no matter how hard, you still have to get up in the morning.

And face the people dancing on the inside, with their glee at your demise.

Sometimes, you watch your children laugh. You watch yourself laughing with them.

And you wonder if they realise that you laugh as a reflex. A habit.

Sometimes, you are there. Holding them, loving them, a part of their world.

And then you slip out, get locked out. Can’t even reach out and touch their love. Touch your love for them.

Sometimes, you sit and wish for quiet.

And then as all the sounds die down in the  afternoon, you wish for noise the way you’ve wished for nothing else in your life. Because the silence is suffocating.

Sometimes, you need some space. Some time. To be allowed to sit, just for one minute, without someone climbing on you. Crying on you. Wiping their snot on your shoulder.

And no space is granted, so zone cordoned off, no room to breathe.

Sometimes, your chest is tight with rage and anger and confusion.

And there is no reason, no valid, logical reason why this is happening right now. To you.

Sometimes, someone reaches a hand through the void. The foggy no man’s land you seem to hide behind.

And they grab your arm and pull you through and remind you that life is still here. Embracing you.

Even if you can’t embrace it right now.

Sometimes, you feel completely normal again. Like this had never happened. Call off the guard, false alarm. I was just having a moment.

Embarrassed by the attention you’ve drawn in your panic.

And then you remember that feeling of getting back to normal is part of the process. Something to hold onto.

A preview.

Sometimes, you just need to engage, be tactile.

And sometimes, there are a bunch of arms, holding you up, holding you close and reminding you that you are going to be OK.

One day soon.

Thank you for being my bunch of arms.

–

I totally nicked this list of numbers from Gemma. If you need help, please tell someone, phone a friend or use these numbers:

* beyondblue info line (National) – 1300 22 4636
* Lifeline (National) – 13 11 14
* Just Ask Rural Mental Health Information & Referral Line (National) – 1300 13 11 14
* SANE Australia Helpline (National) – 1800 187 263
* Suicide Helpline - 1300 651 251
* Mensline (National) – 1300 789 978
* Australian Psychological Society Referral Line (National) 1800 333 497
* Mental Health Information Service (NSW) – 1300 794 991
* Kids Helpline (National) – 1800 551 800