My anxiety levels were through the roof this morning. It was my first appointment with my therapist today and I really didn’t want to go, even though I knew I ought to, and when I did I would feel better for it.
I set my alarm early so I didn’t have the added panic of being late, and then dicked around failing to get ready, so then had to rush out the door. Nothing like a bit of self sabotage to start the day. Anyway, I got there on time and in the right place and the session was good, and intense and a great release and a relief and also exhausting.
I came away feeling almost giddy, which was quite nice. It’s much easier once the initial steps are taken. Now I know I can do it and I want to do it more than I don’t want to do it, and I feel I can trust the process and the person holding that space for me. So that was fairly huge.
I was starving hungry and still feeling quite head rushy so I took myself off for a quiet stroll around one of my favourite charity shop haunts whilst wolfing down a sandwich. I had chosen one of the brief interludes in the day when the weather was behaving, so it was rather nice. I was also very pleased with myself that I didn’t succumb to four studio pottery goblets with kings’ faces moulded into them. I spent about ten minutes going back and forwards in the shop. I wanted them, but they were awful, but they were so awful that I was hypnotically drawn to them. Thankfully I managed to wrench myself away without them, which is probably a testament to the power of therapy even in short bursts.
On the way home I stopped into one of my local corner shops that has become an absolute linchpin of the community under lockdown. We are very blessed where I live, with fantastic local, independent shops that genuinely are a part of the wider community. It’s very difficult to shop with them all, all the time. I would be bankrupt, but I do like to pop into my favourites regularly and buy things. They do great samosas with dipping sauce at this shop, so I bought some for Jason’s lunch and bought myself some ‘bread and butter pickles’ to try. Oh my word. I shall be visiting more regularly. I love pickles a lot and these were exceptional. Cocktail onions, slices of gherkin and jalapenos. Sweet, sour, crunchy and fiery. I had them in a sandwich for my tea and was in absolute heaven. Why have I not discovered them before? They may be about to be my new, favourite thing.
I had a short time left to work when I got in, before I had to take Derek to the V E T. This was made considerably shorter by the fact that Anorak, who is on antibiotics because he is a bloody nuisance, has now got an upset stomach, but is also not allowed outside until he is better. This means that about every half an hour the most noxious miasma rises from whichever litter box he has chosen to deposit his bowel movement in. Jason retreats to high ground and I am left to clear up the mess. Mess being the operative word here.
No sooner had I shovelled a great deal of shit, than I was chasing a feline round the lounge and clapping her into a cat basket. The vet was very pleased with her and made much of how pretty Derek is. She is indeed a pretty cat. She is also evil and can do a very good impression of a really furious owl. The vet is Spanish. I don’t know if she has encountered a furious owl in Spain, I doubt it, or she would have emerged going ‘do you know how much your cat resembles an angry owl?’ rather than commenting on her gorgeous lewks. I cannot believe that she put Derek through her paces and didn’t get the owl face in return.
I got home and collapsed on the sofa. It has been an intense week what with one thing and another. I am so excited to not have to go to the vet tomorrow. I think the vet is probably excited too. In Spanish and English.