the decision

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.

refreshed and smiley after a snooze

Sidey’s weekend theme: the decision


12 thoughts on “the decision

  1. It’s frustrating, isn’t it, when you’re miles away and you would like to be doing something useful but can’t. As you say, all you can do is be supportive from a distance. I hope the medical drama ends happily.

    I love the heart btw. Is that just a chalk drawing?

  2. Speccy , I enjoyed reading some of your older posts and have now subscribed to your posts by email. I intend visiting regularly and commenting whenever there is something that I can write about.

  3. For those amongst us, whom anxiety visits, there is another drug which works well along side tablets. Under the brand name WordPress. But you already know that.

    I like the chalk heart and chalk smiley, as well. Sadly, inevitably chalk art gets washed away. On the bright-side, the artists’ passion does not -you gotta love those little fingers covered with primary colours,

  4. Most hospital admissions are always a percentage more traumatic when you are not there is see; to judge; to know for yourself what is happening. Waiting on a phone call for reassurance or; well …. how can you know what you will be told? You were not expecting to receive a call about the medical emergency in the first place were you? It’s natural to ‘over panic’ even if you are there. Glad the panic is over. Like the smiley happy drawing.

what do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s