‘What’s the difference between Margaret and a cow?’
‘Nothing. They are both moooooooooooooooody!’
That was the joke that made me smile and made my moody mardiness burst like a bubble as I picked up Willy from school today.
I was livid. Having organised my day around an appointment I had been waiting for desperately for 6 weeks, I turned up only to be greeted by a string of excuses that seemed to be my fault! I had been nervous all morning, running like a mad man was chasing me, cooking and clearing to distract myself so that I arrived calm and collected for an appointment that was going to help me with the triggers of post traumatic stress that seem to be increasing with frequency and intensity.
I have no doubt and suspect this is due to the excitement and intense pressure we face as this chapter comes to an end and a new one begins, along with the fact that house purchasing, death, marriage and divorce are rated as the most stressful events you will face in life.
I am pretty certain I know what the next chapter holds, but as this one draws to a close, I question and interview myself silently on my sanity. Am I? or aren’t I mad? Would I be mad to? or not to? And so I find myself in constant justification and fight for my survival mode, leaving me vulnerable to any kind of trigger; friends who just remind me of their betrayal and how small it was in light of it all, wedding photos, vegan recipes, mirrors and even fricking cushions in John Lewis!
Yes I was livid and the triggers just kept on flying at me like daggers as I tried to believe the Universe had my back… but only sent me to find a new trigger – the bloody yellow cushions!
But then there was my little blondy, bringing me back to the present. Telling me jokes as his arms clung round my neck and I could smell the warmth of him, the fresh smell of his clean, line dried clothes.
“Where does a snowman put his birthday candles?’
“On his birthday flakes!”