Two separate topics really. First an update on my recent trip to Paris (I was there three nights, including New Year’s Eve).
I was stressed to hell before I went to P. I was fretting and worrying and wobbling all over the place. I had sort of decided that I couldn’t do much more than ride out the expanding wave of anxiety. I came to see it as somewhat inevitable, given that it was something I’ve not been well enough to contemplate doing for months and months.
I won’t go into every detail; just a few things of importance for me. Firstly, I survived! Yay! I got through it one step at a time. I was not half as bad as I thought I’d be on the fatigue-front and I was able to take several time-outs when I needed to. One example of this is when the rest of the group decided to visit the Moulin Rouge and I opted out because I’d had next to no sleep and felt like a bed was far more inviting than a French tourist site. Talking of beds, though, I’m not sure I’ll ever use a hostel again. Check it out:
I actually couldn’t sleep on that top bunk because when I climbed up there the whole edifice creaked and wobbled so much that it scared the shit out of me. I decided pretty sharpish on the first night that I’d be hauling the mattress to the floor each night to sleep on. That worked out better. For my still intact limbs, anyway.
Something I noticed about anxiety whilst I was there was that everyone was anxious at some point. With me it was mainly about packing (energy drain), being on time and not having to force myself to do too much once I was there. I was very nervous about my CFS and handling that. My bunk-mate was stressed about flying, not something I’m too panicky about, and other people were anxious about stuff like how we could organise taxis, not get lost and that sort of thing.
There were some nice moments, like sitting in a cafe/bar watching the world go by whilst sipping wine. Then there were some appalling moments, like getting separated from the group on NYE with just one other girl, both of us not great at map reading and walking the streets of Paris like a couple of bedraggled strays, a Taxi or Metro out of the question after midnight.
All in all it was good for me, it has lifted my confidence, which inevitably gets dented with lack of practice at such things as trips away.
I really wanted to see Notre Dame and I was able to do that, all be it the exterior only. Here’s one pic I took:
Now a quick word about the SNOW.
I do think we were really lucky to travel back within days of this awful snow storm we’re having at the moment. In the spirit of gratitude I have to be thankful that we weren’t unable to get home, nor did we suffer any major delays. That said, I’m feeling like a caged bird today. The snow just seems non-stop and I hate this feeling that I can’t go anywhere or do anything. I was hoping to get to the cinema today but it would have been virtually impossible after the road and motorway closures. I think I may be a little pre-menstrual because I don’t always feel quite so agitated by things that I can’t do anything about. Today, though, it has been hard to stop myself from bouncing off the walls.
Anyway, I’m hoping that now Paris is under my belt and not looming like some shadowy figurine outside Notre Dame, I can move forward a little.