This morning I received a text message that convinced me I was going to die. It was a perfectly innocuous message from a courier company telling me that Colin would deliver my package between 2 and 3. What was threatening about that? I was convinced that this man was going to deliver my parcel of dresses. During our time together he was a courier driver and my brain made the illogical step of making him today’s courier. That’s PTSD for you. It makes no sense to anyone but me that a message about a delivery could send me on a thought spiral which ended with me being murdered on my doorstep. I was terrified, shaking and crying and felt sick knowing I would be alone when he arrived.
I am the queen of holding a grudge. Just ask the girl who I fell out with in primary school and haven’t spoken to since, the ex-boyfriends who broke my heart or the friends I’ve discarded over the years for their actions. I have 28 blocked numbers on my phone – once you’re on my Shit List that’s it. I’m a nightmare – I have a near photographic memory, am quick to judge and loathe to forgive or forget. Last week I told my niece and nephew about the time their dad locked me in a cupboard and described the event in such detail it could have happened that day (it was 26 years ago…)Read More »