Deep waters: The flood's mental health toll has risen again

The first time was last week, when the Hawkesbury River was at risk of reaching major flood levels at North Richmond and Windsor. I live alone and, not having grown-up on a floodplain, I was scared of the rising waters.

The Bureau of Meteorology and the NSW State Emergency Service updates were coming thick and fast and I knew what I had to do: I had done it in the March 2021 flood event and so I did it again. I left.

I don't know of any of my neighbours who did the same - was I the only one who succumbed to the fear? It felt like the right thing to do but then again, what was I running from, exactly?

It happened again last night. The waters were rising once again, and I found myself packing. It struck me that it wasn't so much a choice I made, but something I did on autopilot - something to do. Something I could control.

So, at 3am, when the lights went out - an effect of the flood waters - I packed my things by phone light into my car. I lifted everything I could up off the floor and stowed it up high. I turned off the power-points, scooped my cat up into the car, locked the doors to my house and left - for the second time in a week.

Evacuation orders had not been issued; they still have not - not for my street, anyway. But I simply could not handle the not-knowing. Not knowing what's to come.

I only had to walk to the end of my driveway to see the encroaching water at the end of the road ... how much higher would it rise? How high would it get before the sewage stopped working? How high until the evacuation order came? How high until my street was cut off?

Something I do know is that I am feeling the cumulative effect of three floods in three years. It's taking its toll, and I know I'm not the only one who felt the deepening sense of unrest when the rain came these past weeks.

For the first time ever, I've become fearful of the weather. As soon as the word 'flood' begins being mentioned on the TV and radio, I'm well on my way to panic. My heart beats quickly, I sweat, I can't concentrate. I'm pretty sure you'd say that's trauma, but what do I have to be traumatised about, exactly?

I wasn't evacuated the last three years, after all.

I haven't lost any of my possessions or property or loved ones, like others have.

What right do I have to be scared?

And yet, here I am, staying with my loved one on the other side of Sydney, fearful of the rising waters once again.

Natural disasters are costly, not only in roads and housing and infrastructure and belongings, but also in emotions.

The physical clean-up from this flood will be lengthy and expensive, but the emotional and mental toll on our people - who make the river towns their home - will be far greater and longer-lasting.

We need to prioritise mental health in the clean-up. Reach out to your loved ones and neighbours now. They might need you more than you know.