The clouds of misery seem to have dispersed, for now. I’m too cynical to believe that they have disappeared completely. I’ve spent those days of normality trying to do as much as I possibly can whilst I have the emotional bandwidth, it’s nice not to feel like it’s waiting for certain death at any given moment.
The husband is going away for a week and as usual, I have filled up most of my free time with lunches and dinners with friends, I’m excited to celebrate the fact that I have submitted my first-ever draft of copy to a client!!
I was pretty pleased with what I had produced but I was of course nervous about the feedback, this could lead to more projects. But I know that I worked really hard on it and did my very best and I now feel confident about taking on more work in the future.
I had a great weekend catching up with friends, and even though I miss the husband, I found that putting my focus on the things I do have at that moment has become easier.
I spent hours just writing, feeling the joy from doing it that I have been missing. I found myself feeling better than I had in a long time, I just hoped the poor husband would get to see this version of me for a bit, instead of the monster he had been living with for so long.
The husband returned but the monster in me did not, didn’t appear. Life was beginning to feel good again and that nagging feeling of wondering when it would end, like a child tugging at your clothes for attention, was being pushed as far down as I could get it. I had had a week of feeling normal, I think the relief of feeling like I was finally getting somewhere with the doctors had set in, maybe I could relax a bit now?
What an idiot.
On Friday morning, I woke up practically excited to go to the doctor. As I lay there in bed envisioning happier days on HRT, I realised Toby, who was lying at the end of the bed by my feet hadn’t made his usual noisy requests for breakfast. I sat up and gave him a little scratch behind the ears which he loves. Nothing. He wasn’t right at all.
I woke the husband and as I did Toby let out a growling miaow and took himself off to the sanctuary to sit puffed up under my desk. Oh no! What’s wrong with him? I use all the words that normally excite him like “treat” “breakfast” and “outside” nothing. What was wrong with my baby? He needed to go to the vet. The husband…