One day, my family started to embark on a journey that would lead us into the dark.
We were stuck in the car unable to escape, it was like we were heading into a deep lake.
I didn’t understand, I was driving along, everything was fine so what did I do wrong?
All of a sudden, I lost all control and the car seemed to have a mind of its own.
But the others were sleeping, they had no idea of the things I was feeling, the dread and the fear.
What should I do and how should I cope? To be honest, by that point, I’d lost any hope.
But there was still hope, my loved ones were there. And all I had to do was make them aware.
And when they found out, they too were scared. No one was expecting it, and no one was prepared.
They saw the illness had taken over my mind. They missed the girl that was caring and the girl that was kind.
But their unconditional love always remained. Even though our relationship wasn’t quite the same.
But we needed more help, so they opened the door to people who had dealt with these problems before.
We worked as a team to get back on track. There were ups, there were downs, but we had each other’s backs.
So now we are cruising with the odd twist or turn, but together we’ve fought and together we’ve learnt that recovery is possible, and you can be free.
You can live a live you value and you can be who you want to be.
So, I look around now and what do I see? A motorway full of alike families all on their own journey, some closer to home.
But what I can promise is you’re not alone.
Together we’re stronger, so a team we will be, sufferers, carers, clinicians, and Beat.
We will keep fighting to end suffering and pain, and please remember that love and hope always remain.