It’s a typical rainy cold Monday in November. The roads are manic and the streets are full of students, mothers with prams and rain covers, shopping bags attached to prams bashing and bumping about. The homeless man on the corner of Newland sat with bin bags protecting him from the rain.
The bus was really hectic today people coughing and spluttering and they where wiping their hands all over the handles of the chairs, damn it, would someone please attach hand sanitation to this place?
The last thing I want is to catch another bug or illness, I am now playing catch up at uni and its really stressful.
Last month they gave me morphine at hospital for stomach upset, you wouldn’t know because you wasn’t there, my god I wish someone I knew was there with me. I was in a very terrible pity party situation. So much had been happening in such a short space of time. It was really hard to catch my breath, the panic attacks where back again.
That was my breaking point, that was my fall, I was so close to just begging them to take me in. I wasn’t coping I wasn’t myself. And my stomach was huting so much it reminded me of the surgery the urgency I was in back then.
My puke was bright blue from the scan they did to check my organs. Thankfully it wasn’t an ectopic pregnancy, or twisted ovary like they suspected. He said he was sure, he thought, he said, it was 50/50, could be my appendix or my ovary.
They where wrong.
It was nothing and i’m fine.
Doesn’t explain the pain though.
I am so thankful that my best friend that I actually met via the internet on Instagram was on the other end of the internet that evening. She sent her friend to come and sit with me and that was amazing, at last I wasn’t alone I had someone to talk to, and that we did. We spoke about so many things, whilst I waited 7 hours in the corridor double bent over or sat in the wheel chair.
There was a couple. They was really kind to me amazing. Strange but they was lovely. They had a busy, and different kind of life to the norm. Or maybe it was the norm and mine was just significantly different.
They came into A and E because he was walking down to his local offie (off-licence) then he had a huge cough and WHAM he was in so much pain down his right side he was struggling to move. He was in agony. I mean they did talk a lot about wanting to get home and have a spliff and a drink which was a little awkward. They have family that own a fair ground ride at Hull Fair and he let his kids go on and his kids friends on for free.
They really made my evening, and you wasn’t there. It was just another example of how I could survive without you.
I started to feel this way when I left home.
Similar but different.
I remember when I was able to boil pasta and cook something other than a pot noodle and beans on toast at 16. I taught myself and that was really pretty lonely to be honest. I defiantly want to add that to my mothering skills. 1. Make sure I teach the children how to cook.
I had been crying for so long I got myself in such a state, no friends where around to help no one was able to see me for whatever reasons. Maybe I make it hard for people to see me and communicate, maybe I don’t even know that I do this.
Just promise me you wont return anytime soon because I am starting to enjoy life without you. Even though you have destroyed what confidence I built up with my girlfriends over the summer, I am actually quite enjoying looking at people and thinking about them. What did they get up to this morning? was they squashed between an old man and a pram and some shopping bags, or where they sat in a comfy white car with you that smelt of stale piss.
I think I had actually made a friend at University, at last. But I better not let them get too close, or they will find out how much of an anxious freak I am.
My life is changing and adapting and almost better than it was. There is just this one thing.
A cycle of something I really don’t want to be in.
But for now, I don’t hate Mondays.