The final day

The concluding day of the biggest weekend of my life.. well, it feels that way now, but it probably wasn't..

Monday was so hectic. Or I just made it more stressful and hectic by the way I did things. I was up at around 8 o'clock. Emma and Aiden were coming over to Orla's. I hadn't hardly seen Aiden since I was back, so I needed to make an effort. And I was feeling okay about it. They were at the house at around 10. I still needed to get some shopping done as well, before going back to Ireland and I needed to pack and to sort out some last "preparations" for the present I was putting together for Natasja and her little baby, who I still had to see before leaving for the airport as well. We were leaving at 3 in the afternoon. So I had a lot to do..

Emma came to my rescue though. Taking the pressure off.. She went and did my shopping while I spent some time with Aiden and she helped putting the present together. It was all such a big deal and I wanted to do so much more and put more effort into everything I was doing, but I just simply couldn't. And when the pressure gets to me so much I just totally slow and down and couldn't care less about anything. I then get to the point of just totally stopping. It's the strangest thing and quite annoying too, especially when there's nothing I can do.

I actually wanted to go to some more shops up town and I wanted to buy some Dutch books (instead I didn't get anywhere near town), I wanted to pick Aiden up and have a little rough-and-tumble with him on the floor (instead I just sat there trying to entertain him with my voice alone, not that he needs entertaining, but still..) I wanted to make a "professional creative" present for Natasja (instead I was nearly embarrassed by the end-result of what I put together), I wanted to make a nice lunch for me and Sean with the chicken I didn't finish yesterday at dinner (instead I had 2 slices of toast in the car on the way to the airport).

These might all sound like small insignificant things and maybe they are, but to me they were important. I tried not to beat myself up for not doing everything the way I wanted to. I knew that over the weekend I had already pushed myself enough, or too much, that I wasn't letting myself do it again. I still had to the journey back to Ireland to do as well, before the day was out.

I went to see Natasja and her new born baby Lana. I was so pleased that I made it there and that I was feeling good about it. I wasn't feeling guilty and I was able to be present, chat and hold the baby. I had the energy and the enthusiasm. It was so nice. Seeing babies, either new born or infants, really is always a reality check. It shows what's really important. Because my reaction to so many things over the weekend was: "Who cares? because I certainly don't.." I said this to so many things, in my head, whilst either looking at telly or listening to a conversation. Not caring about certain things, was because I didn't have the strength to care. But then I look at little Enya or Aiden or Lana and everything can make so much sense, for some reason. The whole weekend I've been so reoccupied with myself. Even reading these blogs, you wouldn't even realize that there are a few little souls running around that are so important and need a certain amount of attention.. I didn't do it intentionally and I don't want or mean to be selfish and I do care because seeing the little kiddies makes me so happy. They make it all worthwhile. Even though I'm not always able to show it, they do mean the world to me and even though I don't see them often, I couldn't imagine my world without them.

Anyhow, back to Monday. The journey to the airport was fine. I ate my lunch and had a supplement drink. I very nearly asked Orla to pull over and to let me be sick, but I managed to stay as still as possible to fight the queasy feeling. I hadn't spoken to Orla about it since Saturday and I wasn't planning on either. I didn't know if I had brought it on myself or not. I knew that once I back in Ireland and if I instantly felt better whilst eating, then I had brought it on myself. But I still felt queasy, up until Tuesday lunchtime. And I don't think it's possible to bring on hot and cold flushes, aches and pains in my head and sore skin just by over-thinking things..

The journey.. I needed to eat more than I ate on the journey on Thursday. I was better prepared, but still didn't buy any food or dinner in the airport. I had an extra muesli bar instead. I know it's not a proper dinner, but that's just how it planned out. I wasn't hungry anyhow. Our flight was at half seven Monday evening. The airport in Charleroi is a lot less stressful than Dublin airport.. not that Dublin airport is major airport, but there's a massive difference. Charleroi is smaller too, so we didn't have to walk miles. Sean insisted on taking my bag, wouldn't let me carry a thing and wouldn't let me stand in line, when we waiting to board the plane. I sat there, while the line of passengers got longer and longer. Sean was already standing up near the front and told me to just jump in, when the plane was boarding. So I listened and just kept the whole attitude going of "I don't care if people give out that I'm jumping the que.. who cares, who cares, because I certainly don't" I had to let all my worries go and I felt like a zombie, but in a nice and chilled out way. I was thinking about my bed. I was afraid to think about food just yet. But I knew I was nearly safe again.

The plane ride was fine. I wasn't exhausted getting on, so I was able to laugh at the bad accent of the steward on the microphone telling us just how cold, wet and windy it is in Dublin and how we were going to love it. And of course the jingle: "Ryan air, Ryan, let's fly Ryan air.."
And once we had landed: "Ryan Air is the only low fares airline to have 90% of their flights land on time".. or something along those lines. Anyhow, I didn't care.. I was home..