Epokaliss showcases snippets of the journey of grief. I tend to describe the experiences of struggling with anxiety and depression in aquatic terms. It feels like trudging through thick dark waters – an improvement from the initial sensation of drowning, however exhausting. To this day I don’t feel like I’m fully clear of the water, rather in a more shallow end or simply have gained strength. I march on in the hope one day I’ll have tranquillity again.

I learnt the true meaning of patience, not that of a passive saint, but that of a soul realising that patience can mean choosing what you need over what you want, and patience in having faith that one day you’ll feel free and happy again.

The windows of the Neo-Gothic Addolorata chapel are superimposed on the subject as though light is being shone through. This is where my family is buried. The dead are pitied in Malta, but the living aren’t afforded many kindnesses. My mother is at peace but I was struggling, in silence and out of sight.