From people who have been through it

“I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason. It doesn't. But you can get through it. I did, and I'm not especially strong. Try not to make big decisions on the worst days and I learned that the hard way.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are four months ago. Colic every evening. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you're at the start of this, I won't pretend it's easy. The first few months were the worst of my life. But I'm writing this from the other side, and some days now I forget to be sad. I told my siblings exactly what I needed instead of hoping they'd notice and go slowly.”

“If you're just starting with a teen who won't leave their room, I won't pretend I have the answers. For me, the waiting list felt endless and the exclusion letters kept coming. What helped was finding one other parent who got it. I still drive nights and Nathan still games, but we had a chat last week about nothing much. That was something.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: vaping and lying was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time. Praying for strength.”

“Sé que ahora todo es muy confuso. Las noches son largas y el dolor es fuerte. Pero puedo decirte que se puede salir. Al principio, todo parece imposible. Pero con el tiempo, encuentras una nueva normalidad. No te preocupes si no puedes dormir; habla con alguien. Y no tengas miedo de pedir ayuda. Tus hijos te necesitan fuerte. Un día a la vez.”

“if you are starting with a loved one's addiction, i am sorry. it is a mess. you will not know what to do. i still don't. but you don't have to figure it out alone. find a group like al-anon, even if it feels strange. keep your own money safe if you can. i learned that the hard way. and it is not your fault. you can love them and still say no. i am still learning that.”

“I was sure I'd never feel normal again. I was wrong. I stopped trying to be the perfect parent. good enough is enough. keep going, even slowly.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in November. Sick days with no backup. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are three weeks ago. Enabling and not knowing where the line is. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“Please be getnle with yourself. I wasn't, and it made everything harder. I started saying no to things and it made a big difference. And talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”

“I'm not going to tell you it gets easier, because I don't know if it does. What I can say is that you learn to carry it better. The assessments, the meetings, the forms, they're exhausting, but you're the expert on your child. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Find one person who gets it, even if it's just someone online. And if you can, find two hours a week just for you. It's not selfish, it's survival.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the summer. I resent him and then I hate myself. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are around Easter. My youngest left for uni in September. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: Christmas schedules was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are two months ago. Never a night off. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are after the new year. Our son's assessment took two years. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“You will resent them. You will hate yourself for it. Both things can be true. I wish someone had told me that earlier. Get a sitter for two hours a week, even if they refuse. Even if it feels like a waste. She'll survive. You need those two hours more than you know. And the guilt doesn't go away, but it gets quieter.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in October. Christmas is the hardest. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last year. Exclusion letters from school. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I know you're in the thick of it and it feels like you're the only one holding everything up. I've been there, and I still am some days. What I've learned is that you can't do it all, and that's not a failure. Tell someone, even if it's just a friend or a colleague. Ask for the care assessment and push for what your parent needs. And find a way to get some sleep, even if it means letting something else slide. You're not on your own, even when it feels like it. Take it from me, a guy who's still figuring it out.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are around Easter. The adoption panel. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: driving two hours every weekend was my lowest point. A year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“Sorry, this got long. I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: childcare costs more than my wages was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in October. Feeling like I lost myself. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“Esto es para vos, que estás empezando. No te voy a mentir, es difícil. Pero también hay momentos buenos. No tenés que ser perfecto. Yo todavía estoy aprendiendo. Hablá con alguien, aunque sea por acá. No estás solo en esto, aunque a veces lo parezca. Un día a la vez, che.”

“Hey. If you're just starting out with this, I won't pretend I've got it all sorted. Some days I still hide in the bathroom for five minutes. But you learn. You learn that the meltdown isn't naughtiness, it's overload. You learn which clothes work and which ones cause a fight. You learn to ignore the looks in the shop. Find one or two people who get it, even if it's online. And cut yourself some slack. You're doing more than you think.”

“Please be gentle with yourself. I wasn't. It made everything harder. Two hours off a week, non negotiable. It's what keeps me going. And talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are three weeks ago. Waiting for the phone to ring at night. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the spring. Setting the table for four. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are three weeks ago. My daughter cut contact and will not say why. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“Para quien empieza a criar a un hijo con discapacidad: no tienes que hacerlo todo perfecto. Yo todavía me enfado cuando la gente mira, pero he aprendido a rodearme de personas que entienden. Acepta la ayuda que te ofrezcan y busca momentos para ti, aunque sean pequeños. No estás sola.”

“If you're at the start of this, I won't pretend it's easy and the first few months were the worst of my life and but I'm writing this from the other side, and some days now I forget to be sad, lean on whoever offers, even if it's awkward so people want to help. Go slowly.”

“To anyone just starting out: it's bloody hard. The crying, the weighing, the feeling like you've vanished. I won't say it's easy, but it does change. You'll find bits of yourself again, just slower than you'd like. Accept help when it's offered, even if it's just someone holding the baby while you shower. And if you're struggling, tell someone. I wish I had sooner.”

“to whoever needs this: i was where you are in january. mum refuses help at home. today i made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. it comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are six weeks ago. Respite once a month. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember being right in the middle of it, thinking there was no end. The broken sleep, feeling like a stranger to yourself. I've been there. What helped me was tiny things: a short walk with the pram, a hot drink while the baby slept (even if I didn't). And I asked for help, which wasn't easy. You're not on your own with this. Things do improve, just slowly. Try to be kind to yourself.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are three weeks ago. Her room. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold. Praying for strength.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: an EHCP fight was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“I know you are running on empty. The resentment, the guilt, the exhaustion, it is all real. You are not a bad person for feeling it. Start with one small thing that is just for you, even if it is ten minutes. I found a sitter for two hours a week, and it changed things. It is not a cure, but it is a start. You are doing more than you think.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the autumn. No respite in sight. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the summer. Three kids under eight on my own. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember readng notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: Mum refuses help at home was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Have not spoken to my parents in four years. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last week. Mum refuses help at home. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in February. His house falling apart. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you are just starting out with a new baby and the colic, I want to tell you it does pass. The crying every evening feels like it will never end but it does. Ask for help even if you have no family close by. I found one neighbour who took the baby for an hour so I could sleep. That hour saved me. Other mums are out there going through the same thing even when it feels like nobody is.”

“I was sure I'd nevre feel normal again. I was wrong. Ask for a double appointment if you can, it changed things for me. Keep going, even slowly.”

“I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason. It doesn't so but you can get through it. I did, and I'm not especially strong. I had to ask for help and it nearly killed me, but it was the right thing.”

“To the parent just starting out: I know it feels like you are the only one. The supermarket stares, the meltdowns, the same five foods. It is hard. But you will find your people. I found a support group online and it helped just to know others get it. Fight for the assessments, keep notes, and do not be afraid to ask for help. And look after yourself too. You cannot pour from an empty cup.”

“to anyone starting with caregiver burnout: feeling this way does not mean you are weak. it means you have been carrying too much for too long. you will feel angry and guilty and loving all in the same hour. that is normal. get a sitter, even for two hours. go for a walk. cry in the bathroom if you need to. but do not turn on yourself for having feelings. this is hard what you are doing. and plenty of us are doing it too.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are around Easter. Have not spoken to my parents in four years. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I was sure I'd never feel noral again. I was wrong. Try not to make big decisions on the worst days. I learned that the hard way. Keep going, even slowly.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the summer. My son is using again. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“Sorry, this got long. I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason. It doesn't. But you can get through it. I did, and I'm not especially strong. Getting the school involved early made a big difference for us.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are after the new year. Respite once a month. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“to whoever needs this: i was where you are two months ago. school refusal since september. today i made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. it comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“Sei que agora parece que não vais ter um minuto para ti. Eu também senti isso. O que me ajudou foi aceitar ajuda quando aparecia. Uma vizinha que ficava com os miúdos uma hora, uma colega que trazia sopa, o meu irmão que levava a Leonor ao parque. Não é fraqueza pedir. E tenta arranjar um cantinho na tua semana que seja só teu, mesmo que sejam dez minutos a ouvir um disco. Vais ver que esses minutos te salvam o dia.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last spring. Dad fell twice this month. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are after the new year. No family nearby. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”