The weather has been terrible today. The morning was cloudy, cold and grey then around lunch it started drizzling. Not that fine stuff that soaks you, but the kind that makes you question if its’ actually raining or not. Then the sky got darker and the rain really began falling.
I was on the bus coming home, reading my book and listening to chatter of the women opposite me. The rain sounded really soothing against the large windows and when I reached the end of the chapter, I sat back to watch it. Everything was fine and I was feeling okay.
Of course, when I got off, I had only my jacket on which got pretty wet on the walk home. I had to put that on the radiator to dry off with my shoes beside it because they were basically water lodged.
And then I don’t know what happened.
I want to my bedroom to get changed and there was a lump under the duvet. I stared, wondered what it was. I got all sweaty and I could feel my teeth biting down on my lip. I looked around for something to poke it with or even throw at it, but there was nothing. I reached over as it was in the middle of the bed and touched it.
It was only a pillow!
I must have forgotten to move it when I made the bed!
Still though it raised something inside of me. I had to sit down and take a few deep breaths. I felt the edges of panic and I started reflecting on a conversation I’d had this morning. It came to me out of the blue, yet I remembered it in great detail.
I was enjoying a quiet moment at reception when a colleague came over and started talking to me. He was waiting for someone to arrive. Somehow, we ended up on the subject of disabilities and the fact my ex had the same thing this colleague had. And I told the break up story again! Yes, I know, I promised not to, but it’s just so hard when you think you’re going to be proposed too and it turns out to be the opposite…
I shook the thoughts off real quick about it and got back to work.
Now, though as I’m pinching and rubbing the corner of the pillow between my thumb and finger, those thoughts I was trying to stop gush out. The worry rises and before I can stop it my anxiety, like the unwanted monster it is, has turned up.
I attempt to think of something else, maybe to get dressed and make something to eat, the normal things, but I can’t shake it. I recall, suddenly, about a story I read in the newspaper this morning. A woman in her late thirties killed herself because she was never the bride. All her friends had got married, but she had been single for years and became depressed about constantly being the bridesmaid.
Isn’t that the way it always seems?
I had to bury my head in the pillow and let all the questions circle my mind like vultures.
Would I ever meet someone? Would I fall in love again? Am I going to be lonely for the rest of my life? Would I have the fairy tale ending? Or else would I become crazy cat lady and die unknown? Could I trust anyone ever again?
I cried so hard and loud, I’m sure the people living below and above me could hear. There was nothing I could do, I was so worked up by it. I’m not sure how I pulled it together. Maybe the phone was ringing or there was someone at the door…my mind was blank till I got in the shower. I think I might have had a panic attack, but I can’t be sure.
Writing does help, but maybe I need to go back to the doctor. I have to sort out my insomnia again anyway. Though I doubt there’s a pill to make me forget all of this. Maybe I might take that mental health class too. I just don’t want to go on having these attacks. Hopefully they’ll go away soon.