“And behind my eyes, my daily disguise everything’s is turning to white.”
Pasta night
No it isn’t Ricky Ponting the Australian Cricket Captain, it is my anxiety.
I wanted to write about the elephant in the room the night before the Hobart Marathon. It is my anxiety that wants me to stop writing about it, it is afraid that people will think I am weird. Then I thought, no stuff that I want to name and shame my elephant in the room. Put it out there squirming in the light of day, the ugly thing that it is.
The night before the marathon I went to a pasta night at the restuarant in the hotel. This is a big deal for me, I always eat alone, I take meals back to my room when I go on running adventures. I sat at a table on my own. Another runner kindly invited me to his table, with a couple of other runners. Two of them doing the HM and one the Marathon. They were good blokes. Immediately my anxiety kicked in. What if they notice my anxiety, what if I annoy them? At first it is embarrassing and then a cold fear sets in. Did I annoy them? Then I went away to my room having trouble sleeping and analysing my behaviour and every word I said.
There is nothing visibly wrong me. What is wrong with me lives behind my eyes, in my mind.
….but this disease I suffer from is real, it doesn’t make me a wonderful person, certianly not horrible I hope, but there is no way I could ever make up something as horrible as this thing I suffer from.
