Today I turn 35… A day for celebrations. So why have I been up since 4am with anxiety crushing my chest?
I don’t know, I feel like the trauma of the past few years is catching up with me. I wake with my heart pounding, my hand on my bag, sweating, dry mouthed. Panic and anxiety flood my mind and body.
I get up and check on the kids, I check on the husband and the dogs. I check that phone chargers are switched off and unplugged (I have a fear of fires starting from chargers). I check my bag for leaks and try and settle back down.
This happens often and then I wonder why I’m so exhausted in the day. I had blood tests recently to check my levels to see why I’m quite so tired. Perhaps it’s less a physical thing and more a mental one.
Sometimes I sit in awe of everything that’s happened in the past few years, it often all feels like a bad dream. Perhaps I’ll wake up and not be ill, not have a bag. It catches me off guard when I think about just how broken my body is, when did this sneak up on me?
I think it’s the permenance of it, this is it forever. There’s no ‘getting better’ from this, it’s my life now and the treatment that’s saved me is the cross I have to bear. Mixed emotions swamp me, I know I should be grateful for all the wonderful treatment I’ve received on the NHS, grateful that I’m alive and still standing! Yet sometimes I just feel sorry for myself.
As I’ve said before, I’m pretty rubbish at sharing my feeling in real life. I have awesome friends around me but I just done have the words to share my pain. I mean, I do, because I write them here but they really stick in my throat when I try and speak out loud.
I need to accept that it’s ok for me to feel bad about things. I struggle massively with not being ok. I want everything to be peachy keen, rainbows, sparkles and mega lols and I feel guilty if I don’t feel positive.
I’ve been thinking about counselling. Perhaps I need to talk to someone about what I’ve been through. Perhaps my 35th year will be the one that sorts my head out as well as my body.
Till then I’ll celebrate the things I’m lucky with. My amazing friends, my wonderful husband and the best kids ever. The fact that I’m reaching 35 when it all could have ended so badly. The fact that my bag saved my life.
Happy Birthday me.