The Wood and the Trees

Something strange happened the other night. I had had a lovely day lunching with my best friend. Master D was in bed and I was curled up on the couch watching TV with Hubster. I was happy and content and relaxed. Bliss.

Then suddenly I started to feel like I was lying down on a wooden board. That’s the only way I can describe it. I shifted around and tried to get comfortable but everything just felt hard. I stood up and walked around but the horrible wood feeling followed me. The molecules in the air surrounding me seemed to turn into splinters and I felt a huge pressure, like I was being pushed into the ground. I started to feel like I was encased in a coffin of wood, and I started to panic.

Sounds crazy right?

 While it was happening I kept trying to explain to Hubster what was going on, but he just couldn’t understand it. How could he?  I suppose that’s what being ‘crazy’ is like – having horrible things happen but no one being able to understand what you are experiencing.

He tried his best of course. Bless him. He told me there wasn’t any wood around me (“I KNOW there’s no wood, I just feel like there is!” I snapped back). He suggested that I ‘calm down’, which unfortunately had the opposite effect. “Would YOU be calm? If you were trapped in wood?!” I asked him. He didn’t have an answer for that one! Finally he asked if I wanted to go to hospital to which I vehemently declined. A Friday night at the hospital attempting to explain my plight to a physician really didn’t appeal to me.

In the end I took a few extra anti-psychotics and went to bed, willing the hardness to disappear. In the morning I woke up, minus any wood, but I was annoyed. It simply wasn’t fair. I had been taking my pills religiously, I had been keeping my stress down, I had had a damn good day, why would something like that happen?  What did happen? I mean, seriously….wood?! What the hell?!

My confidence was knocked. I thought I had been doing so well. This was just reminder that the blackness…the craziness…could come back at any time. “Hi Rachael! Remember me? Just popped into say ‘hi’ and remind you that I’m still here.”

But I guess it is naive to think that I have completely exorcised a part of myself that has been around for so long. Do I even want to do that? I don’t know. If I’m happy, but have a few crazy moments is that ok? Maybe.

It has been about six weeks since my discharge from the mother and baby unit. At the end of the day after what I went through before that, I think one slightly odd evening in six weeks is pretty damn good. It passed quickly, no one got hurt and it even makes me chuckle now.

I guess sometimes weird things happen, things you just can’t explain. But I’m not going to dwell on it, or analyse it, or worry about it. I’m still doing well. I’m still happy. I’m still laughing. I’m still me. And as strange as the experience was, now I can see the wood through the trees 😉



Yep! 😉

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