I’m a Runner

As the time draws nearer to the anniversary of that day the same feelings return to the pit of my stomach. It’s peculiar as I don’t so much think about the actual accident itself, the memories that shadow my thoughts now are of the days after. The look on friends and families faces when they came to visit, the fear in my sons’ eyes, the inability to scoop them up and cuddle them and promise that it would all be ok. Will the memories ever fade? Will I ever get to a point that the day will pass and I won’t remember? The boys have no recollection of the aftermath of Mummy living in the front room or of Nicholas (the cage), Charleigh’s memories have become faded with time, for these facts I am grateful as their minds are so young and pure and I don’t want them filled with bad, only the good.

I sometimes think that only I will ever remember the true moments from that time. Perhaps a little part of me will always be filled with it, but I will learn to keep that door closed.

I am determined to use this frustrated energy though and put it to good and not let is turn into a wasted emotion. I think we are all capable of directing our emotions onto a path of our own choosing. Our destiny is ours to make of what we will.

It is true that that time is a healer and despite the door to the dark side being slightly ajar at present, I can see the positives that have come out of something awful and I will try and focus on those.

The main positive being my desire to run. My training is well under way for the half marathon madness that I signed up for! I am stronger, physically and mentally, than I ever thought possible. I am learning to push myself to limits I once only ever thought would be out of reach.
These legs, despite the lumps, bumps and metal, are doing me proud.
James and I took part in the London Winter 10km run last weekend as part of my training plan. Surrounded by the beautiful sights of London down at South Bank, polar bears offering hugs (I kid you not) and the cold, cold air, we set off. I wanted to complete it in 55 minutes – a target that meant I had to push myself harder than ever before. At 5km the cold was hurting, at 7km I wasn’t even convinced I would finish the course and a 9km I knew I wouldn’t stop. With the encouragement of James next to me, my amazing trainer’s (the actual person, not my footwear!) voice in my head ‘think results’ and with a deep determination I didn’t even realise I had,  I completed it in 54:40.
I shed tears of absolute happiness at the end and traveled home on a cloud of delight (with a well-earned Costa Coffee in hand!). I do have a confession though, at the end of the 10km a realisation hit me that when it came to the half marathon I would in theory have to run that again. To say I was a little struck by fear would be an accurate description. How on earth am I ever going to run 13 miles? Although this time last year I wouldn’t have even been able to run 5km let alone 10km so things can only get better. I won’t use the work ‘easier’ as there is nothing easy about this. My legs are not what they were, there is weakness and metal that aggravates – but they are the only ones I have so I can either give in to ache, or fight and work against in the desire to succeed. (medical disclaimer : I am not doing anything that will cause me injury, if at any point there was pain other than that caused by hard work I wouldn’t push it, I am being sensible)

So happy! x

So happy! x

Well earned sit down :)

Well earned sit down 🙂

Told you ;)

Told you 😉

I am lucky to have had people come into my life because of this journey, some of whom I wouldn’t have got through some very dark days without. The internet gets bad press but without it I wouldn’t have found support in strangers when I most needed to connect with someone who knew exactly what I was going through. I know I have mentioned it in a previous blog but I would have been lost without the people I talked to who had the Ilizarov frame at the same time as me. From the USA, South Africa, UK – you helped me when I felt alone, angry, fearful, sad …. I am looking forward to meeting up with (some of) the Ilizarov Forum crew this weekend – you guys all rock!

Sometimes I forget that that there are actually people out there reading this. This is just my little therapeutic bubble, so I am still a little shocked when I get a response from someone other than friends or family. I received a lovely email recently from a lady who is on her own journey and facing battles that I only know too well.

To think that my words and my journey may help someone just a little is truly overwhelming.

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Health & Happiness

I haven’t blogged for a while but I’ve been thinking about the last 29 months quite a lot lately, so it feels like the right time to put down my thoughts.
For various reasons the accident has come up in conversation a lot lately, with old friends reminiscing, with new friends inquiring, with family being supportive of my new adventures. Whenever I do talk about it, it always amazes me how clearly I still remember that day. I always assumed that my memories would lessen and become obscured but that isn’t the case. Certain moments in time still have the ability to create a knot of fear in my stomach, but with much less panic than they would have caused a year ago. The key is to not let the fear take over. Stay in control and be strong.
Time is most definitely a healer, but I think that you need to give it a little helping hand along the way.

When I was recovering I often wondered if I would be the same person again.
Would I have the same outlook on life?
Would my confidence be overshadowed by sadness and fear?
Would the panic deep in me ever be calm?

Traumatic events have the ability to drown you in grief but everyone has the ability to either sink or swim. I was lucky that I had amazing friends and family surrounding me, keeping me afloat during the dark days. However something did change in me, I became aware that life is for living, and living it to the full became my aim.

During the early days of recovery when I had trouble thinking past the next hour let alone the next day, week, month, year, and all I could think was ‘why me?’ – someone told me to focus on the positives of the things that I could control rather than the things that I couldn’t. They asked me to think about what adventures my new healed legs would take me on? They told me that I had an amazing opportunity to do something amazing.

Whilst immobile I took comfort in wine and cake, cake and wine  ……. and inevitably my weight ballooned.
In March this year I needed to go jeans shopping – most girls nightmare – and for me it truly was. I came home empty handed and vowed to lose weight.
I started by looking at my diet and changed my entire outlook on food, what I was eating and why. I soon learnt that my relationship with food in general was unhealthy, not just what I was consuming but why. As soon as I made some simple changes I regained my energy and found an inner willpower to want to be healthier because I actually felt better for it.
With my new found energy and determination I found my feet and started to run. As I said in my April blog, 5km and I became friends! The more I ran the more my confidence grew and the faster I wanted to be and I soon became competitive with myself. Soon 5km became 6km, then 7km …..
One May afternoon sat at home with my herbal tea and my iPad, I suddenly found myself signing up for the Blenheim 10km. Was I mad? Apparently not. Would I be able? Apparently so.
My little legs took me the whole 10km on Sunday 5th October in 1:03:28
At the finish line was my amazing husband, who wrapped is arms round me tightly as I cried.
In 29 months I made the transition from broken and faithless to determined and able. The emotions running through me came out like a waterfall. I cried with relief, with happiness and I felt that finally I was letting go of all of my anger.
How could I continue to be angry? I may have once been physically broken but inside, then and there, I was alive and kicking and giving life a huge high five. That is the most amazing feeling and without the events that made me look at myself in a different light to get to that moment I wouldn’t have been there.

Anything in life is possible. There are positives to be found in everything, sometimes you just need to look through the darkness to find the light.

So I am thankful for the curve ball that life threw me 29 months ago because today it has made me a better, happier and healther person.

(and as for the inner competitiveness in me – it signed me up for a half marathon in six months time …. eeeek!)

It’s All About The Shoes.

11 days short of 17 months later and I did the ‘never thought I’d do it again’ ……
I squeezed my swollen feet, balanced on my not so strong ankles and I actually did it. I wore heels.
Not dainty little kitten heels, no, real, proper, high to the clouds make me 6 feet tall heels. It was my birthday celebrations at Ascot and I simply wanted to feel glamorous. Over the past year I have been to numerous weddings, christenings and other joyous celebrations, always with pristine hair and makeup (well, as pristine as I can make it), pretty nails, shiny hair, but always flat shoes. Even at five months pregnant with twins I was in heels. I don’t even need them for my height, being 5ft 6 I’m plenty tall enough. However I enjoy wearing heels. They make me feel feminine and when in a posh frock I need heels. I suppose the age old saying ‘ you always want what you cannot have’ rings true. Perhaps if I wasn’t such a fan of feet numbing shoes, and believe me, my toes were numb, then it wouldn’t have bothered me as much. But totter down the road, over then grass and across the concourse I did and I loved every second of it. I didn’t care that I could no longer feel my toes, my ankles were swollen and I could feel muscles working in my thighs and my calves that I didn’t know I had, I felt totally and utterly womanly.
Six hours I lasted until I gave in and returned my sorry feet to the boring flats, but even so it wasn’t the fault of my inability to wear my beloved heels, it was all down to standing on a hill. That’s my excuse anyway and one that I will stick to.
When I first had my accident and I found myself awake in the early hours one morning trying to come to terms with the metal contraption attached my my leg, and with the internet at my fingertips on my new iPad, I felt the need to try and connect with people who knew the same fear that I was feeling, who would actually understand. I turned to the fountain of all worldly knowledge. Google.  After finding some rather peculiar things I came across a forum, a fixator forum just for people like me. In my first post I poured my heart out and anxiously waited for someone, anyone to reply.
And from across the globe in came a reply,
From behind my screen my world suddenly opened up to a group of people I now consider friends. I may not have met all of these people in the flesh, but we have bared our souls to each other, shared our deepest fears and cried together.
As it is now we are all frame free, but we still face fears and daemons that only we understand. I am very  lucky to be surrounded by friends and family in my life as I sit here on my sofa, but I also feel extremely lucky to have friends at my very fingertips whenever I need them.
The great thing about friendship is it’s not always about holding out your hand or the time you have been together, it’s the spiritual inspiration that that person gives you. The fact that they give you the ability to believe in yourself, to give you the strength to face your fears.

Time Ticks On

I’ve been sat here for ten minutes looking at the screen but it appears my brain had run out of words! So this blog may be a bit bitty and all over the place as I’m just going to write it as it comes.

Things have been good, I started back at the gym after a lazy break! Truth is I just never got back into the swing after our holiday and then the sun appeared so I was spending gym time in the garden! It was going really well (my return to the gym that is, not garden time, although it was rather enjoyable) I found that I was actually able to run again without any pain. I felt so amazing when I ran 4km, I was happy all the way through, right to my bones. I’m lucky that my best friend is a Personal Trainer so she helps making sure I do all of the correct stretches before and after my marathon sessions. But then, like a lightening bolt, disaster struck. My right leg became swollen and really quite painful. It now hurts to walk let alone run so once again I’m in the garden and not the gym. I know I need to call my surgeon for advice or a check up. But what can he say? Don’t over do it, take it easy, rest your legs. But I’m so fed up of resting my legs (as much as I can in-between being a housewife and full time Mum to three darlings who are on summer holidays!) I am so desperate to just be able to do normal things without a constant fear in the back of my head that I’m going to do some damage.
Maybe I just need to get over it and accept that pain is the way of life now.
I haven’t built up the courage yet to make that call.

It’s been 10 months since I had the Ilizarov removed.
Time is a peculiar thing. You can’t stop it, you can’t fast forward it, it just keeps ticking by regardless. So even though the last ten months have felt like I’ve been zooming through life on a rocket, I’ve actually been cage-less for double the time I had it attached. And time with Ole Nicholas couldn’t have been any slower without actually stopping.

Sometimes I wonder if the accident changed me as a person. Physically obviously it did, and its still taking to time realise that. I need to remember that it’s not about what I can’t do, but what I can do and how well I can do it.
But mentally, emotionally? Do I think differently? Behave differently? Am I the same person?
In all honesty I just don’t know. Certain aspects of my life are hard at the moment and I don’t know if the way I am dealing with them is how I would have before. Sometimes I wish I could pause time for a little while just to be able to stop and think and rather than make choices because I have to then and there, and actually think about what I really want.

The Oxford Mail called me this week. It would seem its been a year since the court case. My memory had stayed shut to that particular event. Being made to think about made me realise that I can remember everything about that day, possibly with more clarity than the accident itself. The weather, the drive there, even what music I listened too whilst waiting. But what sticks most in my mind is the sound of him cheering at the verdict. In that single moment I realised what despair actually feels like.

People go through so much worse than I have and move on, so I’m not sure why I have the need to think about things so much. I’m not a hoarder with physical items in my life, yet with my thoughts and memories, I can’t seem to let them go.

Ten Weeks On

Ten weeks doesn’t sound a lot. You wouldn’t think that you could achieve very much in that time. Or maybe you could, I mean how often do any of us really measure an amount of time and judge what we could have done? How often do we set ourself goals and be able to say that we have achieved them? Maybe some of you (assuming anyone is reading this) do do this, but it wasn’t something that I was good at.

But in the last ten weeks I have been to hell and back. I’ve had my legs broken and half fixed, am in the process of now learning to walk properly again and have realised what really is and isn’t important in my life.

My sense of time would normally revolve around school holidays.
How many weeks until half term?
How many weeks until they go back to school?
We are just starting the six week summer holidays. Usually I would enter this phase with a small sense of dread. No more toddler groups to entertain the boys plus an active 10 year old to amuse as well.
But this year I look at the next six weeks as the end of a very difficult journey and the beginning of the next phase. I am unsure how I feel. Excited? Nervous? Sad? Angry?
Probably a little bit of everything.
There is still a bit of me that is definitely angry. Despite the large part of me that is able to look upon this as an amazing opportunity to do something fantastic, there is still a small fire of anger for the fact that I am even having to go through this. But I think that we all need that little fire to keep us focused and strong and able to see the brighter future we can have if only we open our eyes and hearts to the possibility.

I am so proud of what I have achieved, the human body is a remarkable thing. I have come so far but I am under no illusions that the next chapter will be an easy ride.
I still get very frustrated and I am so hard on myself, every time I reach a new goal it is never enough. I want more. I am just so desperately unhappy with this cage stuck on my leg, with its pins and screws invading my bones that nothing is never enough to ease the emotional suffering it brings along side the magic it is working on the breaks.
It hasn’t even been a week yet that I have been able to walk around confidently with my crutches and quite often without them, yet already I hate their presence and feel so upset and despondent when it hurts too much to not use them. I am fed up with my feet swelling up and I hate the involuntary spasms in my legs. Honestly the list could go on!

But carry on I shall for defeat is simply not an option.

Today is the first day in ten weeks that James and I have been apart. I have felt like my right arm has been missing. How did it become that I couldn’t even last a day without my husband? Crazy!
So I sit here in bed, in my old bedroom at my Mum’s house, waiting to hear the key in the door, trying hard not to cry (even though I am not entirely sure why I even want to cry) and think about the next ten weeks and what I want to achieve.

Feeling Claustrophobic

Before the accident I used to have Wednesday’s to myself when the boys were at nursery. I didn’t do anything exciting with my day, I normally caught up on housework, Phoenix things or any other odd jobs that were just easier to do without the boys.

Since the accident I haven’t had more than an hour to myself and it is starting to make me feel very claustrophobic.

Every time I need or want something I have to ask for it. Yes I am getting more mobile but it is still impossible for me to fetch my own food or drink. It’s tricky trying to carry something around whilst needing to use crutches.
I cannot shower or wash my hair without someone’s help (and having to drive to someone’s else’s house first).
If the boys are having a meltdown or need a cuddle I can’t pick them up but at the same time I cannot walk away either. If they chose to have a tantrum next to my chair there isn’t a lot I can do about it. I am totally stuck.
I’m having vitamins and drinks and nutrients given to me numerous times during the day and I know they are for the better, they are helping me, but I just feel totally out of control of everything. What if just for one day I don’t want to pouring things down my throat?
My life doesn’t feel my own anymore. Everyone else seems to know what’s best for me, I feel like I’ve lost the right to say no, I seem to have lost my voice.

I cannot even sleep when I’m tired unless I take a tablet, and that didn’t even work as I lay there awake until 4am. When I did finally fall asleep I was woken by a daughter getting told off for not getting ready to for school. The lack of sleep brings with it a headache that appears to have set in for the day.

I’m feeling suffocated by it all and just want to run away.

So writing this I am sat in bed at almost 1pm. I don’t want to go downstairs so I’m not, I just can’t be bothered if I am honest. I am quite comfortable and happy in bed so why should I go downstairs? Because it’s apparently better for me? Well today I am going to decide what’s best for me and to begin with it’s staying right here watching old episodes of The OC.

Halfway Milestone

As of tomorrow I can finally say that I am halfway through my journey with Nicholas.
Eight weeks since the operation. I guess most people think that the time has flown by, but for me is has been painfully slow. I have heard each second of every day tick by.
This is unless the bones didn’t listen and are healing in the wrong order, in which case the timescale may change. I have a whole list of questions to ask my surgeon when we are back at the JR on Monday, and this time I will ask them instead of getting over excited by the xrays and totally losing all common sense and leaving with more questions than I started with.
This is the first time I have been a little nervous about a hospital visit as this time there are answers that I want to hear instead of just needing any answer.

The halfway milestone has been acknowledged a couple of days early in the form of a letter from the police. The first hearing at court has been set for 8th August.
Seeing the letter and reading in black and white that she is actually going to have to face what she has done bought with it a mix of emotions.
There is definitely a part of me that is excited, not in a bitchy, revengeful way, but as someone who has never had to deal with the law, the whole process is new and I am intrigued to see how it will play out.
I am also undoubtedly nervous about seeing her in person and hearing her talk. I have only ever seen her from afar, when she kindly looked back at me broken in the road, I have never heard her voice and I have no idea how I will react.
Will I be angry, upset, scared?
It makes me nervous not knowing how I am going to feel. Maybe I will feel all of the above.
I am scared about how she will react to me being there. As it is only a hearing there is no legal need for me to be there, but I need to be. There is no way I could sit at home wondering. I have to be there.
On the 8th she will just be making her plea, guilty or not guilty. The charges are failing to stop at an accident, failing to report an accident, and driving with undue care and attention. I am keeping an open mind as to what will happen as the truth is we just don’t know. She will take advice of her solicitor (assuming she actually has one) and whatever happens will happen. Of course I am desperately wanting her to plead guilty as that is what she is.
But I am in no doubt that she views the accident very differently to me.
We will see.
One of my biggest daemons at the moment is the fact that she has no idea how her actions (or lack of them depending on how you look at it) have affected me and my family. I am going to speak to the officer in charge of the case today and ask about the possibility of writing a Victim Impact Statement. Is it written by me to be read out in court explaining how the accident has affected me. I don’t want to do it because I hate her or want to hurt her with my words, I am not vindictive, I don’t want an apology or remorse, it’s gone way past that. I need to do it for my own healing process, I have to know she has heard how I feel.

So, 27 days and counting …….

Random Ramble

Well it’s lucky that I haven’t been counting on the weather to cheer me up! It certainly does nothing for my motivation to get up and about when it’s grey and miserable outside. I am really feeling the cold too, I sit under a blanket most of the time because I’m so chilly. Perhaps it’s due to my diminished level of activity. Whatever the reason, it’s not pleasant.

I dragged my bum out of bed today despite an awful nights sleep and straightened my hair and shaved my legs (I live a really exciting life!). I was hoping it would give me a feeling of well being, instead I just got annoyed that my left leg is looking really horrible and there are bits on the right that I cannot get to!
My left leg has lost all of it’s muscle and looks really thin and spindly with a large lump on the left hand side where the metal plate is. I am hoping that once I can start using the leg properly the muscle will come back and it won’t be as obvious as it is now. I find the mental reminder than it’s there hard enough without the cosmetic reminder. The right side of my left ankle that has been pinned looks odd and feels very different too. I suppose I just need to get used to the changes?
My right leg is just awkward because I have to keep it dry because of the risk of infection in the pin sites so I cover it with a bin bag when I shower. To wash and shave it I use a bowl of hot water and it’s vey frustrating. I’m never happy with the results, it never feels clean enough and I cannot shave it enough. Overall it’s not a very satisfying task.

One thing that this whole episode has shown me is how amazing some of my friends are. Despite the fact that some of them are going through so much themselves, they are still there for me. I don’t feel like a particularly good friend in return at the moment, I am so wrapped up in my own personal hell that I don’t feel I have anything to give anyone else. That just sounds so damn selfish though and I hate the sound of myself!

James is off out tonight with friends for some beers. I’d love to go as well, to socialise and just be normal for a night. But I just cannot bare the looks and the questions that all inevitably come when you walk into a room with two broken legs. I am so over talking about the accident, I feel like I have talked it to death, nothing I say ever makes it an easier pill to swallow. Every time I talk about it, I just get angry and upset, and today I feel that way anyway without adding to the cause.
In any case, James deserves some time off from being house husband and wife carer!
My babysitter (aka my mother in law!) is coming over for a girls night in 🙂

Goodbye Zimmerman

So the last few days have been a real struggle.

After feeling upbeat for so long I really thought I was finally coming out of the other side. Then like suddenly it feels like I am being pulled backwards and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Last Friday I just felt totally deflated and empty and the feelings just escalated. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, to see anyone, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. I cried constantly and my heart felt as though it was trying to escape. The knot of anxiety returned to my stomach and I couldn’t see anyway out.
I have been taking sleeping tablets to sleep at night otherwise I sit and watch the sun come up. They were running out so I went to my GP on Tuesday to ask for some more even though I was certain he wouldn’t oblige as he is already worried about dependency.  However, after a mini meltdown he agreed to give this emotional train wreck another two weeks worth of a different one along with some literature on self help for insomnia. He also suggested that I might like some counselling to try and come to terms with everything. I have to say I wholeheartedly agree and have made the first steps to get that started. My friends and family are brilliant at listening to me but I don’t think that I am really dealing with the accident and the position that it has left me in.
I am trying my hardest to be strong but I believe it’s coming at a price. I put on a brave face because I don’t want to just sit here and fall apart. But everyday I am dying inside with anger and frustration and it’s eating me up.
I still believe that something good will come out of this journey, my future is bright and exciting, but for the here and now I need some help.
I am not angry at her, I let that go., however I can’t get over the fact that I was actually run over and I have broken bones. Despite being excited when I first saw them, I am finding it increasingly difficult to look at my x-rays now.  They fill me with panic. The recovery was always going to be painful and long and I really am trying to deal with just one day at a time but it is becoming more and more difficult as they days appear to be getting longer and harder.
It’s mentally torturing living with an Ilizarov and I wasn’t prepared for that.
I wish that they had cut my leg off – anything but this cage. I hate it that much.
Now I understand that this sounds extreme and ridiculous, this is one of the reasons that I am going to get help as I know that my thoughts are not me, but something inside that needs to be fixed.
I am so exhausted from trying and crying, I need to heal emotionally as well as physically.

Despite my negative emotions, physically I am moving forward in every sense. Since having the cast replaced with the boot I have been moving around with my zimmerman and it’s been great, I have grown fond of it. When the cast was removed from the left I was told I could ‘partial weight bare’ on it. But what is partial? I haven’t been sure and thought I had probably put too much weight on it but I haven’t done anything that has caused me any pain or discomfort. The physio told me that it’s around 40lbs (3 stone) ….. much less than I have been using (according to the scales I am using about double that!) So I need to let off a bit until my next hospital appointment when hopefully I’ll be full weight with the boot.
Today my lovely physio changed the frame for crutches – WOW,  it’s a whole new world! The freedom you feel automatically from not having the frame surrounding you is amazing. I can see how I will be even more mobile with them but they are going to take some getting used to. In theory I can use them to get me up and down the stairs, I managed the couple that were in the physio room but with the knowledge that he was behind to catch me! Think I might stick to my bum at home for the time being, build up slowly! I feel like I have totally forgotten how to walk, evidently I no longer bend my knees despite the fact that there is nothing wrong with them. So with every new step I take you can hear me ‘bend the knee’, it’s quite comical really.

It’s been eight weeks this Saturday since my accident. Seven weeks this Friday since the operation. It just madness.

As said by someone wonderful
“To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping”

Panic, Fear & Tears

Today has been a dark day. Even though I tried my hardest to stay positive yesterday and fight the dread seeping in I just wasn’t strong enough.

Sleep was restless for me last night and the agitation from yesterday was ever increased. I had no desire to leave my bed and I certainly didn’t want to get dressed or face the world. I have never been more grateful for the children not being around this weekend as I hate them seeing me lose control and could feel that today was not going to be pretty.
James insisted that I should come downstairs and at least sit in the garden as the sun was shining and I need the Vitamin D! Begrudgingly I made my way down, knowing that he was right, however the closer to the bottom I was, the heavier my heart felt. Once outside not even the wonderful sunshine could brighten my feelings. I sat and cried tears of sheer frustration. I know I have come such a long way in six weeks, so why doesn’t that knowledge bring with it some peace of mind about the rest of this journey? Instead, I cannot help but feel each second of each day tick by painfully slowly. I feel so scared about how I am supposed to get through the remaining ten weeks. I am trying to just deal with one day at a time and not look that far ahead, but even still, on days like today I struggle with the thought of even the next few hours. I just want it to be over so desperately. This cage feels like a method of torture for something that I wasn’t able to avoid, even though I know it is actually working a miracle on my bones.

So no, today has not been good. I have not been able to get comfortable anywhere, anyhow, I have cried too many tears.
But as always my James has been there at my side as strong as ever. Calming me to keep the rising panic at bay, saying all of the right things at the right time, cuddles aplenty.
I try not to give in to the panic as it’s so hard to come back from when it has it’s claws sunk in deep.

James and I were supposed to be going out for dinner tonight but I just cannot bring myself to do it. The thought of having to leave the house and be surrounded by people terrifies me today. I need the protection of these walls, separating me from the world, and to feel safe despite the dread that is running through my body tonight.

Tonight I would happily sacrifice the sleep to just feel comfortable and at peace, maybe then tomorrow things will seem brighter. I hope so.