This time tomorrow I will be boarding a plane to Prague.

It’s exciting – yes. I’ve not been there before, there’s eight of us ladies and plenty of time to sightsee, shop, lunch and have fun. Last time I went away with them, to Spain, I came back revived and full of life.

This past few weeks I have been in a really good place with some smatterings of anxiety (just so I don’t forget what I’ve been through). Today I’ve had full blown anxiety thinking about tomorrow.

What if something happens to my kids whilst I’m away? What if, what if, what if.

Unlike previous incarnations of this fear, I’m not quite as worried about something happening to me. I pay a lot of money a month for life insurance so that I know my children will be financially secure until my youngest is 21. Doesn’t replace a mother, but makes me feel like I’m still caring for them in a way, even in death. I arranged this cover during my postnatal depression four years ago and it has helped. Maybe I am overpaying but it is best for my peace of mind.

I’m having moments of crushing angst where I just don’t think I can go. I have periods of excitement too. Only one person going knows about my breakdown. The rest are relative strangers and I’m going somewhere where I will not see people I know. I can do this.

And this is what I wanted, surely? A social life: fun, laughter and friends. I love history and natural beauty and culture. Perhaps I will discover the old me over there.

I will go, only because I cannot afford to waste the money I have already paid. Moreover, this is the next big step: if I can conquer this, I can conquer anything.


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