This has been one of those weeks that have just felt like I have no idea what has just happened. My mind has been over thinking again and I have been trying to keep it a certain speed to stop it from crashing (a bit like Keanu Reeves in the film Speed but without the explosives or Dennis Hopper telling me what to do).

I began the week in relative comfort after a weekend off. I’d had the trauma (not exactly trauma but still worrying) of an engine failure on the ferry on Saturday when I took my daughter to the big island for a shopping spree but this was made better by a Sunday spent with my parents. Monday was a return to work and ‘normality’ again. However, the week was to contain a visit to my work from a regional manager on Thursday and night out for a charity quiz on the Wednesday night. Store visits do not usually bother me as I tend to just get on with my job of running my little section and stay away from all the quoting of figures and best-selling lines. However, this one had me in a bit of a state as I have never met this particular man before. He seems like a genuinely good guy but what will he think of me? Will he hate my beard? Will he think my shoes need polished? (they do but that is besides the point) Should I have had a haircut? None of these things have any bearing on how well I can do my job but at this point in time it made me question how fast I should go. I was tempted to speed up my thinking but I knew this would lead me down the wrong path. If I thought too slowly about things then the world would pass me by and I would be left wondering what I could have done to catch up. The only answer left was to maintain my current speed of thought and direction.

However, this was all thrown into chaos after the night out on Wednesday. I had agreed to be part of a team for my workmates for a charity quiz that had been organized by my colleagues for a breast cancer charity. The night itself went well. I answered well, had fun with my teammates and even won some prizes in the raffle at the end of the night. The next day (Thursday, the day of the managerial visit) was when my mind began to start telling me I needed to slow down.

So I did.

And I crashed.

I got into work at my usual time and read my book for a bit before going downstairs. I met my friend who was one of the quiz organizers as she works in the backstage area. She told me she had wanted to message me after the quiz but felt it better to tell me in person that she was proud of me. She was proud of how I have been recovering since my illness made itself known to everyone. She was proud of me for being part of the winning team (oh, sorry I forgot to mention my team won) and she was proud of me for making it out for the evening. And then it hit me. That night was the first time I had been out socially with anyone other than my family and a few close friends since late last year. It was one of those sort of ‘Holy s**t’ moments when I realised that I had done it all by myself. I went out, I stayed for the whole quiz and raffle and even joined in with the team and I was proud of myself. I had ticked another thing off of the ‘to do’ list (which for some reason never seems to get any smaller) and made myself believe in my ability again

So why did I feel so bad?

Did I not engage enough? Did people see me feeling anxious? Was I kidding myself in thinking I was well enough to go out? I almost felt guilty for having fun again. I had longed for a night out with friends for ages and now that I had done it I felt awful but didn’t really know why.

Answers on a postcard please………………

 

 

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