This has quite possibly been one of the worst weeks of my entire life.
I might be being a little dramatic but stay with me here.
Last Saturday I came down with a really shitty chest cold/infection thing that’s had me pretty much out for the count the whole time, and I haven’t been able to make it into work. I spent three days without a voice and coughing up yellow gunk (I’m so sexy, right?!) The worst part is I had my first formal deadline this week so even though I felt awful I still had to drag my ass in front of a computer screen to get it done on time.
…and the Doctor says? Just wait it out…Fun.
So, I spent most of my waking hours in bed, coughing half the night and napping through the day, minus some time spent in front of a laptop. Final hand-in 1 of 3 completed, and still have to push on to get the next two done. Safe to say I am extremely stressed out right now.
Even better things happened when Mother Nature decided to come knocking on my door, so not only am I stressed and feeling ill, I also get to feel bloated as fuck and be rendered hormonal and useless!
But wait there’s more…
Friday night I had my flat burgled. I was in the flat at the time.
I was in my room the entire day, mostly in bed due to aforementioned illness. When my boyfriend left for work I thought I’d pamper myself and put on a face mask and watched an episode of something on Netflix whilst it ‘set’ or whatever. Once it finished I thought I’d have a long, hot shower to try and clear my chest a little and do the whole exfoliating thing, ‘cause I love my skin I do. It always goes mental when I’m on, as well as being ill. Whilst I was in there I could hear someone rummaging about in the kitchen drawers, but thought nothing of it as my housemate had been cooking earlier and I’d just assumed she was cleaning up after herself.
Once I’d dried myself and walked through the house, I walk to my bedroom door to find a complete stranger standing in the doorway on his way out.
This is literally my worst fear in the entire world, since leaving my previous relationship. I often have night terrors about being chased or followed, especially to my house, and suddenly it became a reality.
I was terrified.
I stood in shock for a few seconds, before blurting out something like ‘what the fuck are you doing?,’ – he doesn’t look me in the eye and pushes his way past me saying that he was looking for a ‘friend called Daniel that lives here’. In hindsight I wish that I had challenged him or stopped him from leaving, but that could’ve made things worse.
Once I walk into my room it instantly clicks that I’ve been robbed. My phone has disappeared from the end of the bed. My rucksack and handbag have been moved and emptied. Panic attack ensues. I tear the room apart to find that my purse has also gone. Even though my hair I still soaking wet and I’m only in a dressing gown, I charge through the house banging on doors looking for him, asking if anyone else has seen him. My poor neighbours must’ve thought I was mental. I run outside and do a lap of the street in bare-feet and he’s nowhere to be seen. There’s now a hole in the bottom of my foot from broken glass or whatever.
Now I’m in full panic and I can’t breathe. I feel like my heart is going to explode and I’m sweating like a champion and crying hysterically.
I want to call the police, my boyfriend, but I can’t. I feel trapped. My laptop is still on the bed so the first thing I do is message my boyfriend on Facebook and demand that he calls my phone, NOW.
He knows me well enough to know that something’s up, and once he realises what’s happened he tells me to lock the door and wait for him, and he runs to my house.
I was ridiculously hysterical at this point, deep in a level of panic I haven’t felt in over a year.
He gives me his phone to call the police, and asks one of my housemates to sit with me whilst he does a patrol of the houses and outside to see if anyone is out there – and everyone sits with me whilst I wait for them to arrive. The police helped me cancel all my cards and stop my phone whilst they were here and made sure I was alright before they left.
It felt like forever. By the time they’d looked around the house and taken a statement it was about midnight when they left. My housemates made sure I was alright, and my boyfriend helped me grab a few bits from my house and take it over to his for the night. He sat up with me whilst I cried, ordered us some food and watched TV with me until I felt ready to try and sleep. It was about 3/4am by the time I got into bed.
8am the next day I was woken up by the forensics team to let me know they were on their way, so I left my boyfriend sleeping and went to get dressed. I thought I’d get some air and sat outside the house to smoke whilst waiting for them, only to find the creepiest bit of all.
There were footprints in the grass outside my bedroom window. The fucking creep had actually either been watching me through my window, or peered through to see if anyone was in before going round to try the doors. I felt like I was going to vomit. My blood ran cold.
Once the forensics team came I showed her everything, and she printed the entire house. There’s still dust in my room where I can’t bring myself to wipe it off. My estate agent has been extremely helpful with the whole thing and is now finding me a new house to move into, as I can’t bring myself to sleep in that room anymore. As soon as it gets dark I go over to my boyfriend’s place and stay there again until morning.
Thanks to this twat, my insomnia has come back, my anxiety has hit the roof, I’m depressed as fuck – and the best bit – the stress has set off my IBS like never before. I feel constantly sick, my stomach hurts and I’m basically spending my day coughing in the bathroom.
I should be glad that though he saw me, and I was vulnerable at the time, that he didn’t try anything and just left the house as quickly as he could. I still have my health…ish.
The best bit is that he actually used my cards within a 15 minute walking distance of my own house, and has tried to use my phone. I hope he enjoyed both the meals he bought himself…
I needed to go into town to see a Doctor over the weekend, and I couldn’t face being in the flat anymore, but I got so anxious that I ended up hiding in a friend’s shop for over an hour after doing what I needed to do.
I still have two deadlines to go
I. Will. Not. Let. This. Beat. Me.
I HAVE to end this on a positive after a shitty time.
I’ve got 18 weeks now until show day, and my bikini has now arrived at work! I’m so excited to try it on, it’s so sparkly!! (Basically, the opposite of me!)
My coach has adjusted my workout and my diet so even though I’m facing another calorie reduction, and I’m dying inside just thinking about it, I’m more determined than ever to look fucking amazing come September 2nd.
I also finish University in 3 weeks’ time. 3 goddamn weeks! I’m not ready for it to end, but also can’t wait to have a summer where I can finally relax, go on holiday to Japan and graduate. Thankfully, probably because I disturbed him, my laptop and hardrive were still intact, so I haven’t lost my whole year of hard work. I will finish this, I will absolutely smash it. Even though I’ve had the shittiest time, I have been through worse and I will not let this ruin it.
This year is still going to be my best yet.
Until next time.