I grab my sister’s hand and pull her towards the cliff edge with me. She nods slowly in my direction. Then we jump.

I jolt myself awake and lie there, my heart pounding out of my chest and wonder why I keep having that dream. I make a promise to myself that I will phone her today just to make sure she is ok.

My sister and I have a strange relationship. She is a lovely, lovely person, but she’s ‘away with the fairies’ as my mum used to say. She’s never settled down with someone, doesn’t have kids and seems to collect cats. She meditates all the time (because she has time to) and often goes on retreats to ‘find herself’. She’s always telling me not worry so much, that I should slow down and focus on the present. I really do not need to be told how to live my life, I am perfectly able to do that myself, thank you very much. And I do a bloody good job of it. Why on earth would I want to ‘clear my mind’ with a full time job in the city, 3 teenagers, a husband and a dog to take care of. I’ve achieved so much, my life is pretty much perfect. I can not afford to slow down. If I did my world would stop and collapse.

I hurriedly shower whilst the bathroom is actually free and then go downstairs. The noise in the kitchen greets me like a 10 force gale. Jake, my eldest is holding a plate of toast high above his head, whilst Grace my youngest bounces around trying to grab it, in tears. Jake laughs wickedly.

“Just give her the fucking toast you arshole” says Lily the middle one.

“Jake give her the toast, Lily don’t swear and Grace you need to get dressed” I say not even looking at them. My husband just sits there reading the paper. I quickly make myself a coffee to take with me as Clara the nanny arrives at that moment and I sigh with relief. A say a quick goodbye to all and rush to the tube station, aware of a headache slowly appearing.

At work I run from meeting to meeting, drinking more coffee and manage half a salad sandwich at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I really don’t feel good today, I’ve noticed my heart racing a bit more than usual and, during one meeting my hands started shaking and my vision blurred slightly. But I stayed professional and carried on without people noticing.

I get home at 7 o’clock, exhausted. I walk through the door and am bombarded with tales from Grace of how awful Jake has been to her. I look in the living room and see him sprawled on the sofa, empty crisp packets around him.

“What’s for tea?” he asks without taking his eyes away from the TV. I don’t say anything to him, I don’t think I can, my mind is blank but spinning at the same time. I walk into the kitchen to find a god awful mess on the surfaces and my husband sitting in the same place, reading a different newspaper. I stare silently at him and feel something welling up inside me. I can’t breath and turn to lean over the sink, trying to take a deep breath. I realise then that tears are streaming down my face and I lower myself to the floor. I curl myself up into a ball and start to scream.....