Don't stand too close to me!

Picking up from yesterdays blog, here if you missed it > http://mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.com/2012/10/before-even-opening-my-eyes-part-one.html?spref=tw …

After saying goodbye to my nephew ‘Thebodyguard’ and I continued on towards the high street which is just a five minute walk from our house - he with his head hung low looking as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and me, agitated, weak and doing my best to keep up with him.

Despite our destination being only a short distance from home I was feeling incredibly weak by the time we reached the town so in order to avoid having to scrap me up from the pavement ‘Thebodyguard’ steered us through the crowds to a little coffee shop set just away from the hustle and bustle of the busy high street.

After consuming a very large milky coffee and smoking half a dozen cigarettes I felt I was (physically if not mentally) ready to have another go at getting the shopping done.

Our first port of call was boots to pick up some 'complan'. It wasn’t too bad in boots, the isles are fairly wide and the store was reasonably empty.

Hanging on to ’Thebodyguard’ for fear of passing out we had just joined the queue at the checkout when a text message came through on my mobile, the message read  ‘I’m on my way to yours, see you in five’.

The message was from my friend ‘Tammy’ and she was on her way to mine - she was on her way to mine because two days earlier I had invited her, invited her and then forgot her.... Charming!

What happened next can only be described as severe anxiety, without warning my heart began pounding in my chest so hard that I was sure it must be visible to the queue of shoppers who by now couldn’t avoid staring at the mad woman rambling obscenities at the far end of the line.

The fact that we had no credit on the phone and would have to wait our turn behind the tutting ‘absolutely perfect people’ who had beat us to the checkout only served to increase my anxiety. By now I was finding it difficult to breath, doing my best not to cry and feeling extremely faint.
The staff at the check out seemed to be moving in slow motion and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it!

I had visions of ’Tammy’ getting closer and closer to my house and though I know all of this sounds completely irrational, every second that prevented me from contacting her to let her know I was sorry was unbearable! I hate letting people down.

Anyway, we made it to the check out - paid for our goods and telephone credit, and then with one of us walking and the other stumbling we made our way outside, I fumbled around for a cigarette and ‘Thebodyguard’ set about topping up the mobile.

I phoned ‘Tammy’ rambled my apologies and she accepted them with the same cheerful, 'oh well, never mind’ positive attitude to life and everyone in it that she always does.

Another coffee follows this little escapade (and a few more cigarettes)  then up and on again, we head towards ‘M & S’ where we will purchase some of ‘Littlies’ special dietary requirements.

I needed the loo, so before facing the whole bloody world (honestly you couldn’t move in there let alone shop!) we headed up to the exclusive ‘M&S toilets, which we like because they are always clean and don’t like because there is always a mile long queue for the ladies (probably because they are always clean)

I wait my turn behind four elderly ladies who, I should add, all looked in decidedly better shape me.  I sit, I wee, I fumble in the stupid inaccessible loo roll holder, there is no loo roll!

Great! Now what do I do? OCD requires me to have exactly four squares of toilet roll and cleanliness is vitally important to me, should I call to the lady in the next cubicle? No I cant do that, its bad enough a stranger heard me relieving myself, I cant do that! Should I take my knickers off, use those and discard them in the sanitary bin and never ever tell another living sole?

Well friends, those and a few more rejected options all passed through my mind as my agitation at (a) not being able to wipe and (b) not being able to carry out my usual toilet roll rituals increased.

I decided I had no choice but to sit there a while and ‘drip dry.
Mortified by the thought of the inevitable queue of people waiting (perhaps urgently) to take their place on my throne, and by the thought that ‘Thebodyguard’ would be by now wondering what the bloody hell I was doing, I cried, silently and despairingly I cried.

Eventually, when both ends had stopped dripping I rejoined my hubby and blamed my late return on the queue.

Shopping in M & S was a nightmare and just about finished both me and ‘Thebodyguard’ off!
People pushing into me, around me, seeming to come at me on purpose, unaware that by walking between me and my husband they leave me stranded, panicked, that despite the fact that he is still only one person away from me in the crowd he may as well be a million miles away, and I am afraid.

I’m afraid of ‘Mr black hat man’, he looks shifty to me, I’m afraid of ‘hoody boy’ who I’m sure is staring right at me, I’m afraid of ‘booted and suited man’ who is drawing something out of his bag suspiciously, he is after his wallet of course, but in the time it takes him to draw his wallet my thoughts have already seen the gun, the blood pouring from my head, ‘Thebodyguard’ standing over me, unable to help me now because it's already too late, the tears on his cheeks, and a little girl who cries for her mummy.

I am afraid of you and you and you and you, so please don’t stand too close to me, don’t push between me and my husband in order to get there first, don’t look at me too long, and don’t judge me!

PRAYER
LORD, Thank you for bringing me to the end of a very difficult day in one piece and helping me to share my experiences. I pray that in doing so someone somewhere feels less isolated, Amen

POSITIVE THOUGHT
As hard as it was today, I got through it.

Thank you for allowing me to share. It helps me more than you could possibly know.

GOD bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x                                                     Copyright©2012kimmie All Rights Reserved