Today, on paper has been a good day. In my head, it’s been a good day, a bad day, a panic attack day, a laughing day and now, a crying day. Let’s start positive. I got up, I got dressed, I washed my face and teeth. I left the flat, I caught not one but two busses and I read for some of the journey. At the other end was a giggling 10-month-old ball of delight in the form of Child EM. Friend NM and I chatted for a few hours over coffee before she managed to get me out the house and walking. It’s the most I’ve walked since rupturing my ligaments. I’ve amassed more that 8,500 steps today. It was so hot, and with the aid of a crutch but I moved.
The less positive side is that my bus home went past my office. I freaked out. Just a little bit. Oh, bugger it, I actually freaked out quite a lot. What if someone saw me? What if they knew I was outside the building? What if an alien lands and sucks me back to my desk in front of everyone (ok, the last point isn’t quite what I thought but you get the picture). When finally, back home, I had to sit in my car for 20 minutes. Yes, I took the bus but my car hasn’t been turned on in a long while so apparently, you are meant to keep it ‘ticking over’. Inside the car was a card I’d received from Friend BS 2 ½ months ago. I’d picked it up, shot off to visit someone and completely forgotten about it. I believe things happen for a reason and for me, for today, that reason was to remind me people love me and I’m strong. No, it would appear I am not ready for the office (via the main entrance or alien invasion) but I am getting stronger and stronger.
So, why the tears I hear you question? Well, to be honest, I’ve not got a clue. Depression does this, it sneaks up from behind and wallops you over the head when you really don’t want it to (a bit like an alien invasion might do if it were to occur). I’ve eaten a pile of junk (although stuck to my calorie allowance) as I’ve been panicking about my weight (I know, it makes no sense). I’d like to fast forward life to when I am back at work, my debt is gone, the 4 stone I need to lose has been lost and I am happy as Larry. Larry, what’s your secret?! Income protection starts next Tuesday which means nothing I can do now will change that, although only temporarily, I am going to need to use the insurance policy. I know, I know, that’s what insurance policies are there for. I genuinely never envisaged this would happen though. Whilst believing I’d only be out of the office was 1 week was very naive, I never thought it would get to week 27. This is what happens to other people, not to me. However, the reality is, it’s now also going to happen to me.
To add to the bubbling cauldron (how have I gone from alien to witch?!) Wales has been rescheduled again. Father is back in hospital as he is continuing to urinate blood. I’ve got to be honest, when Father told me that’s what was happening and he had a catheter, I nearly collapsed in embarrassment. This man doesn’t know I don’t like lamb, I’m 31 and my birthday is 5th April yet he’s on the other end of the phone telling me his penis is sore. It feels very inappropriate. Fundamentally, I don’t feel like an adult in this relationship (and even if I did, I am not sure hearing Father say ‘penis’ a few times over was ever going to be ok). So, Wales is in 2 weeks when, hopefully, he’ll be out of hospital and ‘penis’ discussions need not be repeated. I’m nervous and the fact I’ve got no psychologist or psychiatrist appointments before this is freaking me out. I feel very alone. Whilst I’ve mentioned I talk to my cats and they are, at times, the best therapy I could hope for, this is one of those times I need actual therapy of the human variety. Question: Do I pick up the phone/ email and contact Dr E and tell her I’m struggling a little or do I pretend to be ‘Perfect Patient’ and wait until after Wales? I’ve no idea but maybe the aliens can help.
All in all, I’m ready to get into the bath, wash my face, brush my teeth and tuck myself up in bed before aliens, witches, penis’ or cat therapy can make me cry any more.
Thank you Friend BS, sorry it’s taken 10 weeks to read!