It’s Not What You Think

My beverage of choice while writing: Half a pint of Haagen-Dazs Belgian chocolate

Episode 4: It’s not what you think

It’s been two weeks since you had an update on life with all the labels.  And goodness me, there is a lot to catch up on.  So I’m going to do this in chunks, because otherwise it’s going to take you another two weeks to read this all.

I’ve entitled this episode: it’s not what you think.  Because it’s not.  Have you ever seen someone who seems upset / angry / struggling?  And have you assumed you know why their upset / angry / struggling?  I have.  And Friday 6th May made me realise that actually it’s not always what we think.  Now that’s not to say that making the assumption is a bad thing, but it has really got me thinking. 

Note: I have done nothing whatsoever with this thought.  It’s just a thought!

Let us begin.  I hope you’re ready!  Friday 6th May.  It’s Guernsey day.  For those of you following my eventful life, you’ll know I was going to Guernsey and that while I was away I would be doing my 50th ParkRun.  I did, by the way, but more on that later.

Mum helped me pack on Wednesday night.  Now I realise that in two weeks I’m going to be 29 and should be able to pack on my own.  But I also realise that I am completely incapable of focusing on something for more than about 30 seconds.  So packing usually takes FOREVER.  Like literally EVER.  So mum said she would help.  We packed most of my things, and I was like, yes, I’ve got this, all sorted.  Oh how I fooled myself.

Thursday.  Should probably finish off the last bits.  You know what I did… I decided I didn’t like the draw my leggings were in and emptied them all onto the floor.  This was kind of relevant, in that I needed to ask my friends which ones to take so we could be matchy-matchy.  But.  She’d already send me the list of leggings she has.  So let’s be honest… in hindsight… I probably didn’t need to empty the draw onto the floor.

Essentially.  All I did on Thursday to aid the packing situation was pack an excessive amount of leggings.

Friday.  I’m not working.  So

[inset 10 minute break while looking at pre-loved Popsy dresses in 1-2 sizes too small for absolutely no reason]

No idea where I was… I didn’t work on the Friday.  I went to crossfit.  Now I can’t even tell you if it was an eventful crossfit or not because 1) it was two weeks ago and 2) A LOT has happened.  But I went.  And then I had my nails done.  Because y’know… I’m not working today… I’m not flying until this evening… all the time in the world to chill.

NO SARAH.  There is no time to chill.  Chill time and ADHD do not mix.  ADHD means it takes six times longer to do everything.  So there is no chill time.  Stop chilling.  But I did not.  I continued to chill.  Although, I do actually really like my nails.  So we win some, we lose some!

My friend Emma was coming to drive me to airport.  Gates close at 7:45 (just for context).  Emma is coming around at 2ish, mostly to keep me calm.  I go into speak to Granpa after my nails, so don’t get home till 2:30, so Emma got here about 2:35ish. 

I AM STRESSED at this point.  I can’t string a sentence together.  I am not organised.   I don’t know what I’m doing.  What I’m meant to be doing.  What I need to do.  I have walked up and down the THREE flights of stairs between my bedroom and living room a million and one times for literally no reason at all.

I can’t find my white headphones.  Does it matter if I use my pink ones?  Nope.  Am I still looking for my white ones?  Yep.
I can’t find my jive shoes.  Does it matter if I take my jazz shoes?  Nope.  Am I still looking for my jive shoes?   Yep.
I can’t find my knitting needle (how have I only lost one?!).  Does it matter if I take different, half-finished knitting?  Nope.  Am I still looking for my knitting needle?  Yep.

I need to take my laptop in to be fixed and they close at five.  The idea is it stops me doing work while I’m away… but I haven’t taken it in yet, so I can print work… to do while I’m away.  Go figure?!  But at least this gives us a time frame.

Emma was AMAZING.  But I’m going to be honest, the only memory I have of that two and half hours is walking up and down the stairs, sitting down, standing up, sitting down, standing up, climbing stairs, walking into rooms, walking out of rooms.  No idea at all how everything was packed.  But it was.

Laptop gets dropped off.  Just.  And we go to spoons.  Sit down.  I haven’t eaten.  It’s 5:15… I have eaten NOTHING all day.  Turns out being stressed and worried leaves very little time for food.  I order ‘three small plates’.  If you know, you know.  If you don’t know… essentially too much food for one person, but the word ‘small’ is in the title, so we tell ourselves it’s not too much for one person!

We leave for the airport and I am rather flustered.  But that’s okay because all I’ve got to do is sit in the car.  Except, I get horrendously travel-sick.  I could not work out if I was nauseous from travelling or from anxiety.  But I felt very sick.  Get to the airport at 6:30.  We sit in the car.  I feel sick.  I have not downloaded any music.  Because I’ve had ‘no time’ in the last FOUR hours since I got back from Granpa’s.  For goodness sake Sarah!!!  I download an audiobook because spotify doesn’t love me.

Emma comes into the airport with me.  Obviously.  Because there’s no way I’m going through those doors on my own.  Not a chance!  We go in.  I have a wee.  Come out the loo’s, take one look at Emma and burst into tears.  I can’t do this.  I really can’t do this.  I don’t want to make myself do this.

And this… is where the “it’s not what you think” comes in.  Most people, understandably, would assume it’s the flying.  And being a nervous flyer isn’t actually that uncommon.  It’s not that though.  It’s the unknows…
Exeter Airport
- Never been here
- Don’t know what security looks like
- Don’t know what waiting area looks like
- Don’t know where to buy my giant Toblerone
- Don’t know where the toilets are
- Don’t know where the notice board is telling me where to go
Flight
- Never flown from Exeter
- Never flown in a little plane
- Don’t know where I’m sitting
- Don’t know who I’m going to be sitting next to
- Don’t know where the toilets are
- Don’t know if I’ll be able to reach to put my bag in the overhead locker
Guernsey Airport
- Never been here
- Don’t know what security looks like
- Don’t know where to go when I get off the plane
- Don’t know where to collect my hold luggage
- Don’t know what to do / where to go when I’m through security
- Don’t know where the toilets are

So in that moment… I’m crying… Emma is hugging me… and I am simultaneously thinking of the 18 or more things that I don’t know.  How an earth am I going to do this.

We go to check my hold luggage in.  I can’t answer any of the questions I’m being asked… I just look at Emma with tears in my eyes.  At which point Emma has to explain she’s not actually getting on the plane and is just going as far as she can. WELL.  It turns out that is further than in big airport.  Oh my goodness, I have never been so grateful.

We walk down the little corridor and I think I’m okay.  Until I’m not okay again.  I can’t do this.  I can’t.  I really can’t.

WELL GOODNESS ME.  I think they only let saints work at Exeter aiport.  Flippen heck.

We’re standing at security.  I need to put my cabin bags through the conveyer belt thingy.

Side note:  Did anyone else watch the generation game?  In my family we say ‘cuddly fondue set’.  It’s a phrase used when someone can’t get their words out.  Eg: I’m looking for [inset silence while words fail]… your cuddly fondue set?  I can assure you it’s not a very useful thing for someone to say when you can’t find your words.  But what are families for eh?!  It was the conveyer belt that made me think of this.  If you’ve never watched the generation game, you will have absolutely no idea what I’m taking about.

Anyway.  We’re at the conveyer belt.  Emma is doing all the talking.  I’m doing all the crying.  Now I don’t know about you, but I stand there and immediately think I’ve packed my bag full of all of the banned items.  I haven’t – just thought I should make that clear.  But boy do I convince myself I have.  I am asked if there are any electricals.  There aren’t.  I know there aren’t.  And yet I look through my foggy eyes at the security man, to Emma and back again… I don’t know?
Have I packed my laptop?  It’s at the shop being fixed.
Have I packed my kindle?  I don’t own a kindle.
Have I packed my TV?  A lamp?  The microwave?  Mini-fridge?
Who knows?!?!  Clearly not me… I’ve no idea what is in my bag!

Bags go on… and this is when I have to say bye to Emma.  I don’t want to.  I can’t do this.  I need to do this.  I don’t want to.  I do want to.  I can’t.  I can.  I need to.  Nope.  I can’t.

But I do.  I step through.  And immediately turn round to look at Emma and cry some more.

Well Mr. Security had my back!  He explained EXACTLY where I needed to go.  Not just through that door.  Which don’t get me wrong isn’t unhelpful, but leaves too much to the imagination.  What if I go through the door and then there are ten different corridors and I don’t know which one.  That has never happened in my life… but what if it does?
Through the door.  Turn right.  It’s really sharp, almost coming back on yourself.  Walk up the little ramp.  There is a duty-free and a WH Smith.  This is the last flight, so everyone in the waiting room is getting on the same plane.  If you get worried again, come back down and see me.

Right.  I’ve got this.  I walk in.  See the people waiting.  Cry.  Ring Emma.  Now weird.  Properly weird.  I am going to see another friend but Emma sounds EXACTLY the same as her on the phone.  I can’t work out who I’ve rung.  And I’m crying so much my phone screen is all gross and my eyes are foggy.  Just for your info: I did ring Emma!

Buy my giant Toblerone and some water.  Ring my sister.  Now what you don’t know is I got my sister on a plane about three weeks prior to this (to the point of buying a plane ticket for a flight I had no intention of getting on, so I could take her through security).  So oh my goodness did she throw all my wise words back at me.

This is the point I should have had a wee.  But I didn’t want to get off the phone.  So I didn’t.  They call us through.  I follow the crowd.  Walk a bit.  Back a bit.  Walk a bit more.  Back a bit more.  Finally get in the que.  Get very confused when asked for my boarding pass… I can’t find it.  But I must have it because I’ve gone through security.  Where is it?  On my phone.  That is attached to my ear.  That is where it is!

Insert another saint into the story.  This lady took over.  Did I want to be first on or last on?  Definitely first.  Don’t want any additional waiting.  She takes me right to the door and says the others are just getting off and then we can board.  But she’ll come and get me when it’s time.  Still talking to my sister.  Thinking to myself, these words were wise when I was saying them to her.  They do not feel wise right now.

Lady comes over.  I get my stuff.  Tell my sister.  I’ve got this.  Except I can’t be on my phone.  So have to say bye.

We walk out.  She hands me over two the two air stewards.  Also saints.  They take my stuff.  Take me to my seat.  At which point I manage to ask if there are toilets?  There are.  Can I use them now?  I can.  Oh perfect.  Because, without TMI I have drunk A LOT of water to try to control the tears and am now about to pop!  Go into the loo and the lady says “don’t lock it, no one is coming in”.  Oh perfect – don’t have to worry about getting back out!

Come out.  Back to my seat.  Now what I didn’t realise is that no one else has started to board until I am firmly back in my seat.  SAINTS all of these people!!!

Crying.  More crying.  More crying.  Bits and bobs happen, but nothing very interesting.  Mostly a lot of crying.

Then.  Ms Saint comes over and says do you want someone to sit next to you.
Brain: YES!
Voice: No, I don’t want to stress anyone out.

What I did not realise is that I was so loud that all 26 other people on the flight knew exactly what was happening!

Another passenger leans over and offers for me to sit next to her.  Which I did.  And she just talks.  And talks.  And talks some more.  She was amazing.  I actually managed to stop crying and shop shaking.  And then all of 26 minutes later, we’d landed.

I stay firmly put.  The last thing I want is to feel rushed getting off.  So I let everyone else off… and you know… people are so kind.  I had several “well done”, “you did really well”, “I’m really impressed” and I even had a couple of people ask when I was flying back to see if they could help.  Unfortunately, they were both flying back on the Sunday and I wasn’t until the Monday.

Then I got off.  Just got off the plane.  Stepped off.  And I’ve done it.  I’ve flown.  On my own.  With ALLLLL the unknowns.

Still have to make it back through security, but I am SO EXHAUSTED that I don’t have any energy to cry again.

Collect my bag.  Through security.  Don’t have a wee, even though I am busting… because of course that would mean finding the loos, and that is not happening right now.  But that’s okay… I’m an ex-teacher, strong bladder control!!

That’s it. I’m there.  In Guernsey.

That’s all for today folks!  Coming up, we’ve got:
- 50th ParkRun
- The Hanger Ball
- Flying Home
- Monday Jive

But for now, I will love you and leave you.
Be weird.
Be wonderful.
Be you.