It seems incredible to me that a day can start off with skies clear and blue and out of nowhere the storm clouds of grief begin to form. It’s slow at first, barely noticeable, sometimes even unrecognisable but before long a storm is brewing. Before you can stop it, thoughts of regrets, what-ifs, why, the unfairness of it all rain down on you unwavering, indiscriminate.

Any hope is drowned out by the fear that this seemingly malevolent storm which crashes around me like thunder will never end. The self-talk that says “you cannot face, challenge or beat this storm” takes my breath away, like lightning in the sky. In the face of all of this, with all of the storm clouds, thunder and lightning is the faith that somehow, someday I will be able to stand instead and say I AM THE STORM!