Diary #14 : The Tale of the Hedgehog…

So everyone has small triggers when it comes to anxiety and one of mine is sound,

Its strange, its such a random thing you might think, but since I was a child I’ve always been scared of the strangest of sounds. I’m partially deaf but I’m actually able to HEAR a spider in my room before I see it, thunder terrifies me even though I love lightening (which is the actual dangerous part of a thunderstorm) and I hate being in public places without headphones or someone with me else I constantly believe people are talking to me, about me or laughing at me.

So let me tell you how a hedgehog last night buggered up my day today….

I have a 30-45 minute walk to and from work. It depends how long it takes based on traffic and how I’m feeling but usually its a good 45 minutes. I managed to get to work with no real problems, didn’t encounter too many people and the traffic was just deafening so I didn’t really have to deal with anything that would mess me up.

The walk home though was horrible.

Darkness doesn’t bother me but it does when I’m panicking because every small sound is the sound of my doom. I walk along the main road anyway on my own even with my headphones but last night I HAD to walk that way to keep me away from anything that I’d have a heart attack at if a twig snapped near me.

So I was bumbling along the road, tired and bemoaning my niceness of giving my headphones to my mum on her trip to London when I heard something. Looking to my left all I saw was a blob vibrating in a bush on the wall right next to my head.

Now I have just binge watched the last end of Berserk’s 2017 season (reviews to come in the next few days) so the first thing I thought, in my childish anime filled brain, was that this is it. There is a monster and I’m the one to find it and I’m going to be killed. Of course I’m tired at this point at like 11:30pm after working since 3pm and having anxiety attacks because I’m out of the house without my safety thing but that was my split second thought.

Then I realised how stupid I was thinking that Mrs fucking Tiggy Winkle was about to kill me. For that was what it was.

The vibrating thing in the bush was a bloody hedgehog.

I have Sonic the hedgehog curtains yet right at this moment I wanted death to all little hedgehogs in the world for terrifying the hell out of me.

The thing is I couldn’t just laugh it off because it just added to my anxiety so badly. Then EVERY sound was potentially something that could hurt me. Who knows why? Its the wonders of mental illness, you can’t talk yourself out of a ridiculous situation like this. All I know is when I finally stumbled home after having to walk through the bottom of Delamere in total darkness having a fucking heart attack I was drained.

Actually LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS FUCKING SUBWAY!

For some reason the ONLY way in and out of Eggbuckland on the Plympton end is under the subway and up by the woods. Now baring in mind its a big fucking wood and out of the bloody way you’d think we’d have one street lamp in the middle so that people don’t get fucking kidnapped and murdered or something but NO its total pitch darkness. So for someone like me who when I’m having a anxiety attack can see absolutely solid things that aren’t there, so like another human or a animal or something that looks so real but isn’t actually there, its like a horror fucking movie. I’ve never noticed how bloody bad it is until I didn’t have headphones then I remembered the time police officers who were searching for a missing girl chased me up the road and warned me about walking that way because there have been reports of people being grabbed IN THE FUCKING DAYLIGHT down there let alone at night.

Somebody please put some fucking lights down there!

I don’t actually know what that has to do with anything other then explaining why I was nearly crying by the time I got home.

ANYWAY so how this experience buggered up my day today…

These attacks aren’t something that I have and then I sleep on it and feel better in the morning. Actually it can bugger you up for a while. Usually it isn’t too bad because I have someone who will help me if I need to go out or do something the next day but 9 times out of 10 I’ll just sit around playing video games, reading Discworld books or watching wrestling and/or anime.

So I got up feeling drained, more tired then I went to bed and rather tearful. I stared at the beautiful picture of the most perfect man in the world that is my phone background at the moment, yes its Adam Pacitti no you can’t judge me on this I had a mental breakdown last week and needed something happy on my phone, put on the SmackDown Summary and then remembered my mum isn’t home till late this evening and I have nothing to drink.

I’ve made a deal with Amanda, one of the few people who have abandoned this blog this year, that I’d drink more. Even if it isn’t particularly healthy for me, as I do have a addiction to Monster, I’ll at least TRY to drink more then I usually do. So I had to go to the shop.

Now the Co-op is about 5 minutes away, I run through it so its about a 10 minute journey.

Anyone who thinks that 10 minutes was going to be easy will be shocked to hear it took me 2 hours to get myself in the right frame of mind just to leave the house. I left, had a panic attack and came back in, needed another 30 minutes before I actually left the house again. This time I nearly broke my fingers gripping onto my phone so tightly for no reason other then to remind me if anything went wrong my phone was there.

There’s people doing something weird at the end of the road and whatever it was it was loud which actually made me cry, yes people I fucking cried on my way to the Co-op, when I finally got to the Co-op I had a split second to compose myself or fall to pieces. Now if I fell to pieces all it would mean was that I’d forget half the stuff I’d decided I needed at the store at that moment and rushed to buy one singular drink for the rest of the day.

But no people, Mrs fucking Tiddy Winkle did not destroy me that much! Neither did the big noisy fucking machine.

I prevailed! I calmed down, raised my sunglasses from my tear soaked face, took a breath and went for it. By the time I got to the drinks I was so proud of myself I doubled back, put back the pack of crisps that I had with my meal deal and got myself a jelly pot then went and got a packet of party rings to remind myself that even the smallest of victories deserves a reward.

Thank goodness for the self service machines, I had nightmares last night about ours at work but it meant I didn’t have to come face to face with the no doubt lovely lady at the tills moments after crying. I expertly used these machines so I had no problems, paid and chucked everything into the two bags I had brought with me, adulting at its best right there ladies and germs, and then scampered, taking the longer route to cross the road and keep away from the big machine and got home in record time, also having to navigate a dead pigeon whose brains had been splattered in my path unfortunately.

The reason I’m telling this story that makes me look like a total idiot is because this is what I deal with every day. If I get over simulated in a negative way I can react very negatively to it for days on end. Sometimes I don’t make it to the store, sometimes I get to the bus stop, cry and go home. Sometimes I don’t even make it out of bed.

Yes depression does stop you from finding any worth in even leaving the bed.

I don’t have someone to rely on emotionally, I don’t really have close friends or someone I feel totally safe in telling things to. I didn’t have someone I could just message and ask to help me today it was either don’t drink anything or get the courage, and it was bloody courage, to leave the house.

When I was 17 I was reclusive and leaving the house was torture. I turned that around and have been employed my entire adult life NEVER missing a day of work due to depression or anxiety.

I exert so much energy into preparing myself to go to work, like I’m not working till Friday but I’m sat here preparing myself for leaving on Friday right now, I don’t have the energy to do anything else during the week. Things like this which people take for granted are really hard for me. Its just going to the shop but for me its like mounting a small scale attack. Lives could be lost… Lives being a metaphor for my bladder.

For me sharing these stories is as much about having someone to tell them to as it is just putting another story about mental illness out there. Everyone is different, people who suffer from anxiety and depression might find this story funny or bizarre and shake their head at it because they don’t feel that way but that’s the terrifying thing about mental illness. It effects us all so differently. If we don’t keep putting our stories no matter how silly or how heartbreaking they are out there then the pool of experience and knowledge never grows.

This in all honesty is a funny story, I get why people will laugh, but for me it was harrowing last night and this morning. I managed to overcome it all though and gain a small victory, plus a packet of party rings, which doesn’t always happen.

No matter how small the fight is the fight itself is real.

Just never forget that when you do win, no matter how silly or small that victory might be, reward yourself. You bloody deserve it.

Also fuck hedgehogs. Not literally…. Its illegal and they are pretty prickly.

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2 thoughts on “Diary #14 : The Tale of the Hedgehog…”

  1. Fuck Mrs Tiggy Winkle…. But not literally.

    That should very much be on your tombstone when you die within the next 12 months because of the thing on your neck. Actually this whole blog just made me think of Bottom.

    Happy to hear you got out and did your shopping though. Well done and enjoy the party rings.

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