I was tired and grumpy and going to bed. The fact that it was noon was irrelevant. As was the sunshine, the warmth, the notion that it might be pleasant outside. No; that was not for me. I was working myself into a state and bed was the place.
My head was in turmoil. A medical drama hundreds of miles away had me upside down. Nobody needed me to travel just to be in the way. They have doctors and nurses and grandparents, and plenty of people who know what they’re doing. All I could do was text hugs and support, and miss my mum. Yeah, because she’d have been as useful as me…
I didn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and worried. There were tears. Eventually, I moved on to beating myself up for worrying. What was wrong with my head anyway? Why do I do that? Why must I overreact wildly to any hospital admission in the family? Wise up, you daft bat.
Thankfully the lightbulb moment happened. D’oh. The good news is that I do anxiety. I know this- I have the medication to prove it. A-ha!
I decided to get out of bed, take a tablet and embrace the world I actually live in rather than the sometimes bonkers one in my head.
Football was on TV. Girls were playing with friends, and bikes and chalk. I had lunch and read the paper. A normal, regular, panic free Saturday.
Then I fell asleep on the sofa.
Sidey’s weekend theme: the decision