The experience of one Eden resident is typical of what many have experienced, Lisa has revealed some of the harrowing realities of a bushfire crisis.

waking up in a cold sweat at 4am on Tuesday, Lisa shares how she had been able to shower for the first time in days, flush the toilet and lay in her own bed momentarily.

Lisa lives atop the hill on Eden's southern end and stayed during the evacuations, but couldn't bring herself to use any water, telling herself the fireys needed it more.

"Gotta save the water for the fireys, water for defending life only," she recalls.

Getting rest makes her uneasy, "I feel guilty for even trying to sleep when there are exhausted people out there defending us," Lisa says.

"I slept long enough to pull myself out of a flaming dream, panicking that I had slept through my 15 minute alarm to check outside for embers. ... I was already halfway to the front door when I realised it was a dream."

And that she said, was the end of any sleep. As rain fell on Eden it also raised the question, 'is this over?'

"I'm sat wondering when I should start washing everything that's piling up; the towels soaked with black ash from going in and out of the house - barefoot, so I could feel how warm the ground was and make sure those blackened leaves weren't hot."

She said the days had blurred together and it was taking a toll. "I thought I was doing good waking up halfway to the door, until I remembered how I almost forgot my son's birthday yesterday and promptly burst into shameful tears," she recalls.

"We all slept in the same room Sunday night, me, him and the dog, and how he sounded like a pack a day smoker of 50 years and not my just-turned-20 son and wondering if there's long term damage."

Lisa says she feels "guilty and stupid, and weak for not being as strong" as others appear and has to remind herself "if you're lucky, life goes on I suppose ... I should feel lucky, but I can't really feel anything except a deep guilt that I almost forgot my son's birthday."

For so many "normal" now seems like something intangible, it feels out of their grasp and even foggier in their mind, they've lost loved ones, their homes or their livelihoods.

And for Lisa the idea of pretending things are normal seems just as daunting.

"I want to sleep it all away, but I can't. I don't want to go to work, but i have to, don't we all? Don't we all have to do the whole 'business as usual' thing?"

She now fears worsening weather forecasts on Friday could see the blazes ripping into another frenzy of destruction.

"Am I going to be going through all this again in a few days?" she asks, "is it going to be worse?"

However, Lisa said she found moments of solace during the worst of conditions on Saturday seeing and hearing the Rural Fire Service crews nearby.

"I can't stress enough how great they were, how comforting [it was] knowing they were there," she said.