I had a panic attack at work yesterday morning, it’s been ages since I had my last one. The icy cold feeling of dread deep in my stomach, accompanied by the sensation of fear was enough to make me physically sick. I rang Himself and he talked me through it – it’s the one time I am so grateful for mobiles. We developed the technique a while after they first started - I was having up to three a day at one point. Although he can’t hold me, just the sound of his voice starts to calm me down. Irrational it may be, but I can no more control the feelings as control the shaking and increased heart rate that goes with it. It’s not nice and I wouldn’t wish it on my worse enemy. I don’t know whether it’s the tablets, I ran out on Sunday so I was without until Thursday or recalling memories that have triggered it. I refused to go home – but it was dinner time before I really started to feel better. I tried to carry on as normal but I found I had trouble sitting still and kept walking about. It's the not knowing when it's going to happen that gets me - I thought they'd stopped. I'd been in a bright mood when I'd arrived at work and I'd been working on a claim just before hand - so not knowing what triggered it maked it worse somehow. Himself did offer to come and pick me up and although part of me really wanted that to happen - I so badly wanted to be with him - I said no, I was straying at work. I couldn't let myself give into it, sometimes being stubbon has its advantages - if I'm ever going to get over this I have to face it myself. Just to acknowledge that fact is a major step forward for me - it's easier to run and hide than face your fears, and I've been running long enough.
The day didn’t get any better either – I had to deal with an issue involving a client carrying a knife. It was just bloody typical that I was the only senior manager in the building at the time. It never rains but it pours – just what I needed, tons of paperwork to complete, along with all the phone calls that I had to make. These things are never straight forward and I could have really done without it.
The meal out I'm glad to say, was much better. We walked to the pub, that way both of us could have a drink. There is something immensely satisfying about walking through fallen leaves and kicking them up in the air. We had a lovely meal, look some silly photos and basically after just two glasses of wine, I was very merry. They were large glasses mind and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast – but I’d parted company with that so it probably didn’t count. Alcohol sends me to sleep, I’d felt exhausted to start with so it didn’t take long for me to decided that I wanted to go to bed – 8.30pm and I’m out for the count.
I woke up when Himself came to bed, about 11.00pm – was Matt in? I asked. No, Himself replied, he’d be in soon - don’t start (who me?) - go back to sleep. As if - OK, Matt’s nearly 17, but we have an agreement that he’s home by 11pm unless he phones first. He gets the 50 questions; where is he? What are they doing? When will he be home – we negotiate a time, etc… you get the idea. So I lay in bed clock watching. Ten minutes later, Himself is snoring merrily and I decide to get up and ring Matt’s mobile. It’s turned off – the reason being it’s on charge in the kitchen. No panic - I sit on the sofa and wait another ten minutes – it’s now nearly 11.40pm and still no Matthew. OK, I’ll ring Josh – bound to be with him. No he isn’t, Josh has been out and hasn’t seen him all night. So I then ring Amber, Jess and John all in that order – they haven’t seen him since 8.00pm. I will admit to being slightly worried by this stage – you already know I don’t lack imagination. 11.55pm I ring Tracy – he often goes to see Dan, who at 19 believes that going to bed before 4.00am is bad for you. I woke her up, she had that I’m still half asleep voice – was Matthew there. Er…she didn’t think so (OK, full panic mode about to kick in) – she’d shout Nathan, he was with him earlier. Nathan gets woken up – he was still at the British Legion when Nat had left at 10.45. Really?…It’s right by Tracy’s house and she could see the shutter where still up. So I telephoned the British Legion and surprise, surprise, Matthew was still there playing darts. Thank you Trevor, maybe you could tell him I'd like him to come home now – SO I CAN KILL THE LITTLE SOD WITH MY BARE HANDS!
I phoned Trace back to tell her and awaited the arrival the prodigal son, who turned up 5 minutes later. I blew a gasket – he got stroppy (can’t for the life of me imagine where he gets that from). After a heating discussion, with both of us trying not to shout – I learn that he had in fact told his Dad where he was going. Really?…here we go again. I then wake Himself up to give him an ear bashing – poor sod didn’t know what hit him. He’d told me Matt would be in soon, he said. Well he hadn’t fecking well told me where he was, now had he!
It ended up with Himself apologising to me – and me apologising to Matt. Matt very graciously gave me a cuddle – I made the most of it, it doesn’t happen very often these days – it’s not cool. The trouble is of course that he’s growing up – you spent all that time and energy trying to keep them safe and protect them from the minute they are born that you fail to recognise that they are no longer children. You’ve fielded them from inappropriate television programmes, the Wicked World of the Web and warned them of Stranger Danger – it becomes second nature. It’s a difficult time for any parent, trying to get the balance right and it isn’t any easier the second time round. I can still remember Stee going to his first gig in Wolverhampton, I was a nervous wreck by the time he came home. I also remember giving him some condoms – yes, I’m an embarrassing mother – but I wanted him to be safe. It’s OK, he said, I’ve already got some *sticks fingers in ears, la la la la la*. I used to walk though Stephen’s room with my eyes closed – there are some things a mother shouldn’t know about her son’s sex life. Only last year he rang me on my mobile whilst I was Christmas shopping in Merry Hill - could I get him a present for Lucy so he didn’t have to go up there after work. Yes, no problem - what did he have in mind. Could I go into Anne Summers and get a Rampant Rabbit Vibrator.…..Well, yes, I suppose so. When he came to collect it the next day, I told him that most mother’s were just asked to buy perfume and not sex toys. He grinned and said that I wasn’t like most mothers - he hadn’t embarrassed me had he?
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