When I’m sitting in bed, reading and I glance at my husband who is laid down next to me starting to drift off to sleep and I reach over and squeeze his shoulder in a friendly gesture I feel happy and comforted.
When he then rouses himself to check I’m ok, worried that I am reaching out to him as I feel stressed, the bubble is burst and I feel upset and cross. Upset that the moment is spoilt, cross that my anxiety should not only give me bad times, but cast a shadow over my good times too.
I want rid of these horrid emotions and all the trouble they cause. I want my brain back. I want to be able to think straight about things. I want to believe what I know to be true. I want to get on with my life. I want to be me again. I want to stop twisting myself in agonising knots, making problems by avoid things that weren’t a problem in the first place.
Now I am not cross, just sad. Feeling sorry for myself, for my family, for all the wasted time and emotion. And just a little lost.