So last Monday I took a positive covid test and realised I’d had symptoms starting that weekend which I’d put down to hayfever and tiredness with being at my daughters footy tournament and the long drive/restless hotel sleep and grass.
So I was very lucky as it was just lie having a cold for 48 hours and loosing my sense of taste and smell, which in its self messed up my eating schedule and caused a problem for one of the days but really I can’t complain!
Unfortunately it meant I couldn’t go on our planned family trip- but now as other household members that are double jabbed or under 18 don’t have to isolate the rest of the family went with their auntie and this meant I had the house to myself which was better for isolation.
The first few days while I was unwell passed, although I had a real low when my two sisters started giving me shit about the isolation period- they had their facts wrong and were trying to imply I wasn’t following the rules, and I shouldn’t have let the family go (even though it’s is the guidelines now and they were all having negative lateral flows etc-they have all continued to be fine). Then someone else “told me off” for a work related thing- I introduced myself to someone when I took my daughter for a rehearsal at another company and got accused of “trying to promote my business through my daughter” or some shit….anyway it’s total school yard shit and people trying to monopolise conversations, but I’m so sensitive I take anything like this to heart and I just felt low to start, then missing the kids, and realising that I hadn’t really eaten that day- I was a mess.
Anyway that day ended and I started to pick up, then on the day before the kids came back I suddenly realised (as I was feeling fine) .. “I could get smashed out my head and no one would know”… which would have previously seemed like an exciting idea. I thought about it…I mean it would be illegal to go to the shops but I knew that wouldn’t have stopped me before… I thought about why I would want to do that… I couldn’t think why… I thought about feeling shit the next day- but I wouldn’t have the guilt because I was alone and nothing was expected of me this week, I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything so why not?
But I genuinely thought what a stupid idea it would be… all the things I could be doing instead, which I had been enjoying (getting in with online stuff, watching a box set, daft stuff like that)… and I thought how I would start with a small amount and then there would be nothing to stop me continuing…how dangerous. Danger used to excite me. Now it doesn’t exactly scare me, it just doesn’t have the pull or allure it used to. M
Maybe this is growing up?