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Bottling it …

Skateboard on Stiletto Wheels blog

I am not in my happy place today.

We had tickets for Lear at The National on Saturday and missed it because I … nope, no other word for it … bottled it.  And, I am now really very cross with myself … though three and half hours of what seems, per the reviews, to be a very mediocre performance of Lear was not a huge incentive to go out on a cold, windy, winter night.

I have done mediocre Lear …and, very good Lear.  At it’s best – a wonderful play.  Less than it’s best?  Umm, needs to be a compelling reason to go and, for me, Simon Russell Beale doesn’t do it.  And, before you squeal, I have seen him in loads!  He just does not float my boat in any way.  Don’t know why.  It is what it is.

Anyway, I digress.  I didn’t go because I couldn’t face another psychological battle with getting out of my car, via the ramp, onto our drive.  And, man, I am so sick of this!

More sick, because this big ‘fail by bottling’ was yet another indicator that I am losing the battle.  Fear is trumping ‘will’ and it has to stop.

I really thought I was improving but took a big step backwards on Christmas Day when, having negotiated slopes successfully, I had a panic attack getting out of the car at home.

I was cold, tired. Outside, it was dark and raining.

I just went for it … and swerved wildly off the end of the ramp.  Stayed upright but scary moment.

From then on, every time I come home, I keep coming off the ramp too soon or go down too fast.  Every time worse than the one before.

Two weeks ago, my nadir – to date – came.  I’d been out for eight hours (too long); it was midnight;  no light and pitch black on our drive; raining and windy; my hand was shaking; I needed to pee.  So not ideal.  I knew it but what to do?  I had to get out so, again, I went for it.  Eek.

My back wheels swerved violently, one, kind of, came off the ramp, and I slid down, sort of, sideways, inelegantly, grappling for control … and not achieving it.

Miraculously, the chair stayed upright – it clearly is as stable as Etac/Balder claim … that’s the only glimmer of good news.  Each time I don’t tip over, I feel better about the chair!

D, getting his freak on, immediately started shouting, ‘what the hell are you doing…’, at me until I burst into tears.

Like I didn’t know I’d screwed up?

Seeing me lose it, oddly, calmed him down but it didn’t do much for me, sadly.

Haven’t been out since.

We did talk it through.  Made a plan on how to approach the shaking, tired, cold, wet scenario for the future.

And, I bottled it.

Crap. Life is just so difficult and I am SICK of it.  I just wanna have fun.

Still, tomorrow is another day.

Time to try again.

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