Living With Anxiety/Depression Part One
I find it weird how the mind works. You can be wandering around a supermarket debating with your hubby whether you need more bananas or trying to decide what you are going to have for dinner before you get the entire way round the shop when you notice you are feeling hot, like clammy hot not the heating is on full blast hot, and your starting to shake as your heart beat quickens and really if you don’t get out of here sharpish your going to punch someone in the face.
You tell hubby to forget looking for bleach we are going NOW. Hubby looks at you knows what is happening and moves quickish to the nearest, smallest looking queue. Of course the woman at the front of the queue wants to use about fifty vouchers and is taking her time rummaging through her purse so she can get £1.00 off a can of Heine’s beans while I’m standing two people back gritting my teeth and clenching my fists in the hope I won’t have an undignified melt down in the middle of a supermarket on a Saturday afternoon.
“Do you want to wait outside?” asks hubby
“How is that going to help?” I snap imagining melting into a pool of tears outside in the rain with loads of people I don’t know.
Hubby moves like the Flash whizzing our shopping in the bag, the woman serving not so much, and I’m heading in the direction of the exit before the bag has reached the wire bottomed trolley. We swerve around the wobbling pensioners who for some reason don’t like shopping in the week when it’s quiet, vault over a small child that has decided he wants to stop bang in the middle of the walk way and hot foot it across the car park to the relative safety of our black Golf.
Back in the car and I feel calmer but I want to go home so much I may start shouting it out loud and also I want food, preferably chocolate, avoiding or having panic attacks always makes me hungry. Naturally we now hit every red light and slow ass driver, it’s like 5 minutes drive to home how can it take this long!
Finally at home I sit on our brand new beautiful sofa with my hubby and our cute little furry Jack Russel clutching my restorative chocolate vowing to never enter a supermarket on a Saturday again.
By Lucy Williams