This is a story about a girl who knew a storm was coming.  She boarded up her home, and fled inland with everyone else.

When the storm was over, she returned home.  At first the house still stood, and seemed to be all right.  But when she went inside, she found damage.  She checked each room.  Panic began to mount as she realised that every room had been damaged.

The roof was damaged, the stairs, even the basement was flooded.

As she looked around, she began to realise how much it would cost to restore the house, and how much time.  It could be years before the house was restored.


When her family and friends arrived, they found her curled up in one of the rooms.  She sat, eyes wide with shock, her arms around her knees.

They listened to her story, and gave sympathy.

But they pointed out that she needed to move, to sweep, sluice, mop,.. to restore the house.


The girl had other fears.  She dreaded the next storm, which could be even worse than the last.


Again, her family tried to reason with her.  Even if the worst happened, if the house was in good order, it might withstand another storm.

They pulled the girl to her feet, and gave her tools,..the brush, cloths, mop, the telephone numbers of men who could repair the roof, and they persuaded her to begin.


I am the girl in the story.

I recovered from Depression, but I did not realise how much damage a psychiatric illness could do.

I realised that every area of my life had been affected.  It might take years and a lot of work to recover.  I became overwhelmed, and often felt like giving up.



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