There and back

I did it. Not that I feel any better for this achievement.
Getting there was not too bad. I talked to myself a lot, discovered a cycle lane that I never knew existed, and breathed deeply. I locked my bike up outside the building, and raced up the stairs to the familiar reception area. It was only after I had announced myself to the receptionist and sat down, that I realised I was shaking.
Suddenly, there seemed to be some confusion over my being there. I wasn’t in the appointment book. M came and saw me – my appointment was in her diary for Wednesday – not Tuesday.
At this point, I crumbled. Tearfully, (and in hindsight, somewhat pathetically) I said, “but, I’ve come on my own!” M asked me to hang on a moment – she would see me for a few minutes before her next appointment. I sat there, dazed with that feeling that Christmas has been cancelled. All that build up – all that preparation. All that anxiety. I felt sick.
Whoever throws the dice in life decided that I needed a break at that point. M’s next person didn’t turn up, so she allowed me the full hour. I spent this hour rabbling on (as I tend to when I’m anxious) and listening to M telling me how well I was doing. Giving me the praise no-one else could.
Leaving the building later, I felt very alone. The whole skirt-tucked-in-my-knickers (from here on acronym-ed to STIMK) thing feeling all too real. Cycling back was uphill, but I did it, thanks to the extra surge of adrenalin kindly provided to facilitate panic.
Once home, I felt sick, lost and fatigued. I slept most of the afternoon.
I know this is going to be a hard process, but I am tired. So very tired. I hope it all gets easier.