I woke up, curled myself around my husband and settled in for our morning cuddle listening to the radio. I rolled over, he followed to spoon me, and as I moved my head, I had the unmistakable flashing lights and swirling that comes from a migraine being on its way. I’ve had them for half my life, probably longer, so I know if I catch them early enough, I can head them off at the pass. I took some pills and tried to get back off to sleep.
When I woke up at noon to the sound of grass being mown outside the house, (funny how the smell is lovely, the sound jars you), my head was clear. I was also hungry, so staggered downstairs with hair all over the place and nuked some of the left over stew from last night. Followed by hot cross bunnage and a couple of cups of tea, I watched Oprah interview Jay Leno, wondering what all the fuss was about. But then, having never watched The Late Show or whatever the brouhaha was all about, I will never get it. I had plans for this morning, but life got in the way, so I carried on with the ‘listening to my body’ thing and just let myself come to on the couch, not beating myself up about it.
When the mail man puttered past on his motorbike, I collected the post in my dressing gown and brown knee high biker boots, (hoping no-one saw me), and was overjoyed to see a card from Wiz. She sent me some forget-me-nots, which will come into work to sit on my desk on Monday morning.
Yup, you read that right. I am back at work on Monday. Still don’t know what hours I will be working, still don’t know what I will say to people if they ask what I’ve been out for a month with. Still don’t know what will happen when I get there. But I can’t stay at home forever, I have a life to get on with. I will spend this afternoon thinking about what I want from next week, I will also think about what to say for the inevitable ‘Where have you been?’ I don’t want to lie. But I can’t tell the truth either; I am likely to be hung, drawn and quartered if I do. Answers/suggestions on a postcard please.
Should also say on here, that yesterday’s meeting went well, thank you to everyone who sent good luck messages and lurve over the interweb. It will also have a ripple effect across my colleagues. Which can only be a good thing. It is reassuring (again) that a government agency doesn’t think I am mad, doesn’t think that I have a problem, doesn’t think it is me. This meeting was followed by an uplifting and enlightening session with my counsellor. It is reassuring that while this has knocked me sideways, I can, at last, sleep easy knowing I have done everything, everything, in my power to try and resolve it.
So, I am in the position of power when I walk back into the office on Monday, I can hold my head high. I am not absolving myself of all blame, I am not portraying myself as a patron saint or martyr. I am saying: I tried, I did my best. Which is all I or anyone can ever do, and as something that has haunted me for a long time is being penalised for not doing ‘enough’. Boo sucks, because everyone who has been consulted outside the office has reassured me that I did. Including WorkSafe, who have seen a huge amount of information from both sides of the table, not just mine.
I am off for a shower and to feed the ducks. I will take a pad and pen with me, and think about next week and what I can do when I walk back in there. I don’t want to be a contaminator, I want to be a contributor to the relationship. I’ve drawn a line, both for behaviour that I don’t want to see again, but also for my sanity. Enough is (and was) enough.