So I think the local farmers - some of which live just up the hill from me - are trying to have their last hurrah with crops before the autumn harvest, and have been spreading manure on their fields. But since it's been so f-ing hot, the smell is really carrying, and we've got all the windows open. So my bedroom has just smelt like shit for about two days now, as well as being incredibly hot. Not fun.
The worst thing about OCD is that you will sometimes get a situation, where something isn't definitely wrong, but it could be wrong. You're in the house on your own and there's a genuinely weird noise downstairs - it probably isn't intruders, but it is possible that it's intruders, intruders do come into houses sometimes. That sort of thing. The most natural thing it feels like to do is check - you feel like other people without OCD or anxiety might check - but in that moment you can't tell if checking is obsessiveness, or not checking is avoidance. And you really don't know what to do, either just to live in the world and keep yourself safe, or to handle and deal with your OCD properly. And that sort of sucks.
I can't remember if I mentioned that right after I came back from sick leave, my boss let me know both the other morning receptionists would be off for two weeks, and asked if I could cover for them. I said I couldn't cover for them for the first week, and thankfully the subject was never mentioned again. But what did happen is that I ended up being the only one doing the car park for those two weeks, because no-one else even has access to our email account - and because it's a time of the year when everyone wants a holiday, right before the Bank Holiday, we have considerably more spaces to give out than usual, and considerably less people to give them to. But still some expectation that we will fill all the spaces, or at least push through until we get to the people on the list who DO want spaces. So that was a complete nightmare. I kind of can't believe my boss actually let that happen, except that I can, because he doesn't seem to care or know. I had 26 empty spaces to give out on Friday. I managed to give away 17 of them, and then stopped, just because I really had to get on with trying to do all of next week, for both car parks, as well. So I had a word with my boss on Friday and asked him to ask K and C to just do all the car park this week, so I could have a break. He was a lot more concerned with trying to tell me not to worry so much about the car park, he couldn't understand why I was worrying about the car park, than really just saying yes, but he did say yes in the end. I had to have a short word with him about the fact he just doesn't understand what it's like to have anxiety, and that's why he can't understand why I feel like I feel, and also he doesn't really understand running the car park all the time, so he doesn't understand what that's like either. Without being insulting or patronising to him. It wasn't fun, but I think we got through it. I have explained that he can't fix my mental health problems by telling me 'don't worry about it'. Hopefully that will sink in. And he agreed to ask K and C to do the car park for this week, so I only have to do the bare minimum, last-minute stuff. So I get to actually not worry about that.
Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington.
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