I got out

I couldn’t leave the house, it had been a few days and I knew a familiar pattern had encroached. I was stuck. I wanted to go out, it seemed such a lovely day. The winter sun shone through and it was dry and clear, I had told myself that morning that I’d make it out for a walk. I hadn’t.

My phone rang, it was my boss. I sat looking at his name on the screen listening to the rings weighing up whether I could answer or not, knowing if I didn’t, I’d have to call back later. I pressed the green receiver. His voice was soft and concerned, I told him I felt better and that I’d be back to work next week – he exclaimed it wasn’t why he called, he wanted to see how I was doing, was I mobile and how was I feeling. I told him the pains were easing and I was taking half the meds now. We talked a bit and I promised him I was going for a walk later.

It was time for lunch, my husband came home – I set the table and he asked if I was eating, of course he’d noticed I had set it for one so I added another plate and passed it off as a mistake. I ate, swallowing each bite as uncomfortably as the first – I told myself it was for the best. When he was leaving, I walked outside to his van, I asked about the school runs. “Am I collecting, or are you?”, he looked a little puzzled and said he didn’t mind. I knew I had to be honest, it had been over a week since I had been on the school run. “I know I should but I just can’t “, a lump appeared in my throat. “I mean I want to but I just can’t”, “Why not?” He asked, “something is stopping me, I just physically can’t do it”. He said he would collect the kids and take them to his home house and I promised I was going to make something nice for us all for dinner (not knowing if I could or not). He said “Hey why don’t you go for a walk, it’s a lovely day, dry and warm. It’ll do you good, help you to feel better – it always does. Go on inside and get yourself ready now and head off”, he was right it did always make me feel better. I promised him I would, even told him I had decided that morning I was going to. He left and I went back indoors to my safe haven, my living room. I sat in my usual spot and waited for the feelings of panic to pass over, my heart was racing and my breathing had quickened – it was so hard going out.

The previous day I had made an appointment with my counsellor, again saying I was doing better than I actually was – faking it til I made it. It was fucking exhausting. He told me to give him a call in the meantime if I needed to, I did. Still with the lump in my throat I text him. “Hey Tom you said to call if I needed to, truth is I reached out because I’m stuck in a dark hole – not coming out of it. Not sure what to do”. The moment I hit send a burst of emotion came up through me and out across the room with a huge exhale, the tears began rolling down my cheeks – Fuck Fuck FUCK this fucking shit – my anger took over and the tears stopped – I rubbed my cheeks and grabbed a tissue, blew my nose and composed myself in that typical way I do. Shutting it all down again. Sitting there with my hands shaking, thoughts racing, heart ready to burst out of my chest. I was trying to regulate my breathing, trying to focus – in and out, my exhales quivering.

I sat, composed waiting for the return text and the phone started ringing. “Alright ok Dee you can do this”, my own words of encouragement. I answered and he enquired, I told him I was ok and (still avoiding) I asked how he was, he replied with a laugh saying he was good and asked how I was really doing.

I don’t really remember what we talked about, I couldn’t hear a lot of what he was saying, I could sense his usual jovial tone but my head was spinning as I tried to control my breathing, focusing on a slower, managed inhale and exhalation all the while my heart thumping so loudly that it dulled out everything else. I know he offered to stay on the line while I got my boots on and made it to the edge of the road. I was rambling unfiltered in my answers and responses. My boots, my boots where are my fucking boots – not under the bed, fuck shit where are they? Under the stairs, yes that’s them. Shielded in dust and sitting in a tumbleweed of cobwebs, SHIT how long has it been since I’ve walked?

My hands trembled as I fumbled with the lacers, removing the string of spider webs that had confidently attached themselves there. I stood up and stumbled, my balance off. Ok just do it Dee, just fucking do it – One step in front of the other and I was outside, the world was spinning, an enmeshed blur of grey and green. I get to the road, turn to my left and head toward the hill – I tell him and wonder again how long it’s been since I made it here, I say aloud “It’s been ages”. He tells me what he can see and asks me what I can see, I can’t make anything out it’s all spinning – I tell him I see the hills, I don’t think he heard because I was getting closer to the hill and to where the signal drops. I could see something where I knew the hills should be but I’m feeling so spaced out, my feet thudding with each step and a vibration leaping up through my body to touch the panic that’s bouncing in my chest. My cheeks wet, the tears arrive bringing an overwhelming sense of relief, I made it – I fucking made it – I got out.

Asking for help is crucial, when you feel you can’t do what you need to someone else can help.