Meltdown

I've been dealing with a few personal issues these past few months, associated with a condition that could be medical; it's not really bothered me (as such) but in the back-of-my-mind I've begun to question myself as to whether I am right that's it's not something I should be concerned about (even though I'm sure I know my body well enough to know if something untoward is going on). However, the more time which passes, the more I have been worrying about it (I have even now made the decision to speak to my GP about it - IF I can actually get an appointment) and for me to do that it's got to be concerning me, for I never go to my doctors (I only went a couple of years ago when I had chickenpox because my family forced me as it can be quite dangerous is someone my age - glad I did because the doc did have to give me some antiviral drugs and backed-up my brother's telling me how bad it can be (I hate it when he's right!!)). I've not tried to hide the issue, or hope it will go away, I've just honestly not believed it to be anything sinister - until the past 2 weeks when it has begun to worry me. 

I guess with that going on I've been a bit low, a bit quieter than I would normally be and had my head coming up with all kinds of awful scenarios (even though a huge part of me is still totally convinced it's not anything to be worrying about and I will just be wasting my GP's time if I am able to get an appointment). I've also been a bit more stressed than I would normally be, and that's how I found myself have a complete meltdown yesterday morning over the most ridiculous of issues.

Because I am a director of my little shop (that always makes it sound like I am running some kind of muli-national money making business (this could not be further from the truth and often it is touch-and-go as to whether I will get paid at the end of the month; an amount which most people earn in a week)) I have to do a self-assessment tax return. I hate it. If I wanted to be an accountant I would have trained to be one; if I wanted a job filling in forms (important ones at that) I would not be a florist. The thought of it is bad enough but the minute I sit down to file it I feel stress like no other. It genuinely terrifies me that I am going to do something wrong, put in a wrong amount in a box it's not meant to go into and that is such a stupid thing to worry about, however, it's something I really do get stressed over. How "Cash Only" businesses get away with not declaring all they take, or people who don't put down everything they've earned are able to sleep at night, is beyond me. 

So, there I am, surrounded by bits-of-paper and receipts from places I visited in 2018/2019 that I gift aided to. I have a copy of a small PPI payment I received (figuring out where that goes on a form just about finished me off). I open up the page to do it, having told my Mum to not disturb me for an hour (the last thing I need when I'm 'in-the-zone' is someone (anyone) flitting about distracting me, or talking to me about things of little (or no) consequence) and I go to the 'Log in' section, tap on the box and it's empty; nothing comes up. For the past 4 years my login details have been there (ever since I ticked the box on my browser that says "Save details"). I think to myself "it's ok, you must have used the laptop" so I drag my fat ass downstairs, open up the laptop and the same thing happens. Turns out they've done an update so all stored info is no longer where it should be. 

This is not a problem; when we swapped all the upstairs rooms about earlier-in-the-year, all the stuff I used to get my Mum to keep (in her safe place) I took as I now have room myself to store it. I go to the cupboard, pull out the file, to find it's not there; I have everything else but no tax details (I have copies of everything in the file going back 12 years). I ask Mum if she has seen it, to be told "no, you took it all when we did the room". I ripped apart every-single-piece of my room (even looking behind units, the radiator and airing cupboard) all to no avail. By now my blood pressure had probably risen from it's usual 99/60 to somewhere around 140/120. The stress levels were not good. 

Then I remembered; most companies have "Forgotten log in details, or forgotten password sections" on them, so I click on those, answer all the questions (from my UTR number (had that as it's on a previous return) to my post code, NI number, email address) for it to come back with "We don't have enough information to verify your details; please contact us". What more did they want? My UTR and NI should have been enough for them in the first place. By this point I began to panic a little, telling myself to "not be so stupid" and reminding myself I could ring them today and explain what had happened - I have heard tales of people being on hold all day though and not being able to get through" so I searched their website to see if there was an alternative way, which is when I saw the bit about how it can take up to 28 days to get new log in details sent out. I didn't have 28 days. I had only 19. Add to that the fact they'd been emailing, and texting pretty much on a daily basis for the past month reminding me that I have to file by the 31st of the month.

I then got on a mission; it had to be somewhere, so I started on my side of our craft room/office and Mum came up and started on her side. We never found it. I went back to my room and pulled everything from drawers, under my bed, the airing cupboard, all the while getting a little more stressed. That blood pressure of mine my surely have been 300/200 at this point. When we'd exhaused all options and Mum said to me "when were you originally planning to do it" referring back to the fact I kept saying in September I was going to get on and do it so it was out-of-the-way, knowing she was being a bit snidey with me for leaving it so late, I lost it. I punched a wall, and I cried; then I cried some more. Then I cried even more. For about and hour-and-a-half I sat in my room, crying. I think a combination of the fear that someone is wrong with me, and the stress of everything else I deal with (running a business, living with an aging parent, hormones and health issues) all came to a head. I've been so worried in the past month that my issues are going to see me pop-my-clogs which is the last thing I want (I plan on being here until I am 96) but as I sat there crying I wondered why I wanted to live that long. I questioned what there is out there for me in life; it's not as if I'm "living the dream" right now. Thankfully I got over that pretty quickly, and I still plan on making it to 96, but all of this over a fucking tax return form, when I don't even earn enough to pay tax at the moment - yes, that's right, I run a business and am poorer than I was when I worked for someone; the joys of small business ownership. It's not all moonlight-and-roses. 

It was an hour later when I suddenly realised I'd been looking for a soft plastic folder, and the tax stuff is in a hard folder that I went on one-more-hunt (Mum had known this so had been looking for the right thing the whole time) and where did I eventually find it?? On Mum's side, at the bottom left of a shelving unit, she had checked TWICE. When I asked how she'd missed it, so said to me "Well, you missed it too" - I'd not checked there as she'd been in charge on that side. She then followed it up with "oh, but I did have my jigsaw board in front of that corner, so guess I didn't look behind it properly". 

I'd had a right proper meltdown, and it had been there the whole time. Maybe I needed that cry, needed to let go of everything that was whizzing around in my head. I'd like to say I felt better for it but that would be a lie. Crying always makes me feel crap, although the appearance of our little feather friends "Rocky the Robin" (he was with his counterpart but that one is too skittish and won't sit still for a photo) and "Billy the Blackbird" (who hadn't been around for a few weeks) did go someway to brightening up a very difficult day. 

The long-and-short of this post was not to bore you all with my meltdown over something so ridiculous but to let you know that no matter what it is, that it is ok to lose it sometimes. Ask people who know me what I'm like and they'll say things like "she's always got her shit together" because that's the person I allow them to seee, that's the person I show to the world (usually) but the real me is like a lot of you and literally hanging onto the world by the tiniest of threads. It's ok to cry; it's ok to talk about such things (for so long I never talked about how I was feeling) it's ok to feel as though the world is falling down around you; you do not have to feel guilty for feeling sorry for yourself just because your problems aren't what someone else's are. Our problems and issues are what is relevant to us. There may be some of you reading this thinking "silly bitch; wouldn't know a real problem if it hit her in the face" and you may be right, if you're judging me by just reading this. What you don't see is what I don't share, so maybe you should stop being so judgemental (you arse) and we should stop judging ourselves based on what someone else is showing us they are going through. 

At the end of the day though it matters not one jot what someone else thinks of you. You do NOT need their approval. As long as you know you have been kind to people and shown them respect (unless, of course they have disrespected you, then give them as much shit as you want) then that is all that matters, and if you want to cry, then you cry. Never feel ashamed to do so. It is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign that even the strongest among us, occasionally have to let go.