More on the weekend

I was back in Ireland, on Monday night and at home by 10 o'clock. I never thought I would hear myself say that Ireland was home again. Never in a million years. But then again, I never called Holland home either, so I never really had a place where I felt I properly belonged. But Monday night I felt like I was coming home. It was the weirdest feeling and It feels slightly wrong and strange to admit it openly as well.

I was delighted to see Ma at the airport and instantly everything was easy again. I didn't have to say how I was feeling. I didn't have to think about food anymore. I didn't have to talk about food anymore. I didn't have to stress that I wouldn't like it, because my safe foods are at home, waiting for me. I had a supplement drink when I got back home, and I still felt queasy, so it wasn't all in my head and I wasn't making myself sick by my way of thinking. I did actually pick up the bug that Orla and Arno had. (Orla please don't feel bad about it, it's fine, just one of those things..)It was kind of a relief actually, because I had myself thinking that I was never ever going to be able to go anywhere and be able to eat different food without wanting to vomit.. I wasn't going insane after all.. thankfully. Yesterday with Diann, she said not to go beating myself up over that. I know myself and my body better than anyone else and I shouldn't be too hard on myself..

I was so glad the weekend was over and looking back, it was all too much too soon. There were certain moments that were so horrendous and that kept coming back to me. Friday night when I lay in bed, I'll never forget how awful and exhausted I felt. I cried for putting myself through this whole ordeal, but there were no sobs, no heaves, no shrugs or motions.. just tears because my body couldn't do much else. I'll never forget me thinking that I wanted to see a doctor so badly. I couldn't imagine that I was getting stronger because I felt so weak. I didn't see how I could possibly be classed as healthy and strong and feel so crippled at the same time, just for traveling from Ireland to Holland. It actually scared me. Especially me telling myself that I need a doctor to tell me I'm okay. I would usually do my best to avoid going near one. As I lay there I knew that it was going to take me so long to get back to normal again, whatever "normal" is.. I don't really know anymore. I remember saying to myself "I'll just lie here, forever if that's how long it takes, for me feel okay again. It doesn't matter how long, I'm just NOT allowed to put myself under so much strain again".. This was Friday night and by Saturday morning I was a lot better.

I didn't say any of this to Orla or Emma. I was already talking so much about food, and general chit-chat constantly, that I didn't want to bring that along with it. I wasn't able to discuss it or to admit it openly. I would only have worried everyone if I would have been honest. It wouldn't have felt right, so I didn't.

Saturday morning when I was writing on the computer, I was alone and that was so nice. I didn't want to see or speak to anybody. I wasn't able to think about the rest of the day. I was going through so much stuff over the past 48 hours in my head that hearing and thinking about anything else at that moment in time, would just wreck my head. And that's what happened. Poor little Enya was crying and crying. The first time I'd heard her cry since Thursday night. I wasn't feeling too chirpy. To be honest I was down in the dumps, so then I started crying. Enya cried louder which made me even worse and it just went on and on and I didn't know what was happening to me. It was like I was watching myself on a movie screen or something. I could see it all but I had no explanation as to why it was happening. Once she calmed down, so did I. But I felt so bad.

When I went to lie down in the afternoon, I felt peaceful again. I was calm and kept on thinking how grateful I was to have so many people around me who are caring for me and looking out for me and who understand me to the best of their ability. I had to tell myself this, like a mantra, constantly, to feel just a little bit sane. I wasn't driving myself crazy with thoughts. My head couldn't cope with reading a book to distract myself. But I didn't really need the distraction. I needed those 2 hours to become aware of my safety and to try not to scared.

The whole weekend there was so much compassion, understanding, love, hugs and kisses. So much concern and honesty. Towards me, around me and, to a certain extent, coming from me. I had to be as honest as I could, when it came to how tired I was and how awkward I felt and how hard everything was. Even if it was only towards Orla and Emma. It felt so weird to be this way again. But I had to. With Ma everything is automatic and it all goes without saying, there's no need for words. But over the weekend I had to break down the barrier sooner or later, that had taken it's position between me and certain people, somewhere along the line. And I did it, as best I could.

Everybody was so understanding. I knew nobody expected anything from me. Nobody joked about me drinking tea at the party or going to bed early or sitting with a long face. Everyone knew that deep down, I wasn't able for it, but that I got on with it anyway. They took my physical and mental state into account and for that I'm so grateful. Emma, Orla, Arno, Marcel, Trish, Ed, Sandra and Naomi, they all did their bit and made my stay in Holland as much as a "success" as it could be...