The punishment for a night out with friends 

I ventured to Essex to see friends last night. These are the people who have embraced me in my “Ghost” years when others who have known me for decades have no time for me.

These are people who, when I feel life is a bag of crap, keep me going as they make me understand my place in the world. It’s different to what I thought it would be, but it’s still just as valuable.

So my might out was wonderful, I had drinks at the Hotel – which was gorgeous – highly recommended if you ever need to stay in Brentwood- check out the MaryGreen. And then we had dinner at The Swan pub in Brentwood high street followed by a night of laughter and dancing at a local night spot.

I got back to the hotel around 2am.

And here in lies the problem – I woke up at 7.30am stiff as a board, aching in places I never thought I could ache. But a few calls to my friends made me smile and although I’ve had to change plans today; I can’t go to an event I was supposed to as I’m in a lot of pain and want to get home, I set off in a pretty good mood.

On the way home I’ve stopped off at a motorway service station for a cuppa and to take some tablets.

This is where pain is an awful thing – it not only hurts physically, it twists your mind. I’m lucky enough to be able to self-analyse and know what’s going on? But I feel bad for those fellow fibro-warriors who can’t fight this.

I’m seeing my former self (before I ghosted) everywhere – and it bloody hurts.

The 20 something guy and girl next to me, With their kids eating MacDonalds – that was me and my ex husband 20 years ago…… before that went to crap.

The woman  in the suit sitting opposite me, typing on her laptop chatting happily ( and loudly) down the phone to her mate about going away nexy week to a conference that was me about 8 years ago….before I ghosted.

The couple in a booth – middle aged – drinking coffee, smiling, laughing  eating cake and talking about life – that was me ——-oh hang on…..


That’s not me………….

Not at all.

These are the punishments I endure for a night out.

My mind is a nightmare!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s