Oh my goodness. What a weekend. It's now 6.30 on Saturday and it's all over. I'm sat at Premier Inn, in my room by myself to catch my breath whilst the boys are downstairs with my husband and mother in law.
I have had an amazing weekend and have fallen in love with so many people.
At 3.10 (*edit, I previously got the time wrong) though I hit a wall. I was sat by myself charging my phone and all of a sudden I felt like I lost my voice, I lost my confidence, and I didn't know what to do. I felt really alone.
I think I was overwhelmed by everything. Overwhelmed by how amazing the people I met are. How funny they were/are, how nice they were/are.
And all of a sudden I thought what on earth am I doing here. Why am I with these amazing people. I felt as though I was forcing myself upon people.
See I find myself completely annoying and I felt I had subjected people to enough of me and that they should at least enjoy the last 3 hours without me tagging along.
I felt not good enough to be part of the community.
I had high expectations of people and those people met those expectations, and exceeded them. I felt a bit like I was in a dream world I guess. I was sat with 3 of my favourite people at the Bibs and I just couldn't believe it.
Friday night was one of the best nights I have had for a long long time. If you'd have told me I'd be sitting in McDonalds instead of Jamie Olivers Restaurant BY CHOICE and having a really good laugh at 10.30 I wouldn't believe you. But it was amazing.
And I think part of me just felt alone because I'm not going to see these people again/for a long time. And for the first time I felt like the internet isn't enough. I want, *need* these people in my life.
I then doubted myself and their friendship. I often think people are nice to me out of pity or because they feel they should be.
It's because of my anxieties, my insecurities and also because of how I've been treated in the past, and still am treated by people I have met since being an adult/parent. Which is sad.
At 3.50 I went outside and phoned my mum. Crying. Explaining how I was feeling.
I then went to the toilets to compose myself but rather than that happening I broke down big time. Sobbing into my scarf. And I couldn't stop.
It was like my confident switch had been turned off. Like the spark which had returned the previous day had gone out and all that remained was a paranoid and lonely feeling.
I felt scared. I all of a sudden felt as though I knew nobody. And nobody knew me.
I felt alone, scared, over-exposed and extremely anxious.
No one knew I was hiding in there. No one. When people are enjoying themselves how can I turn round and say "help me. I need a friend". It would be completely selfish.
I didn't want anyone to have the responsibility of sorting this messed up girl out and missing out on the keynote speeches which sound like they were amazing.
I'm not sure there is anything anyone could have said or done to make me better.
The worst thing was, I was hiding during the coffee break, and of course the toilets were busy. I had to wait for the keynote speeches to start until the toilet was empty and I ran out.
I went to the Montcalm to grab my bag, I was so flustered that I couldn't find my ticket and the tears started again. The poor concierge didn't quite know what to do.
And then I had to make my way to Old Street to find my hotel.
That has to be up there in the top 5 scariest things I've ever done.
I couldn't get Google to work so my husband had to text me directions.
Turn left, walk to the end of Chiswell Street, turn right onto whatever road then left onto Old Street.
Google had told him wrong and then I'm lost. His phone battery had gone. And then mine did.
So I carried on walking.
In desperation I went into a Superdrug and asked for directions.
"Carry on to the roundabout, cross over then keep going straight".
So I did that. And then...I'm somewhere called Vince Street (or something like that) and I'm officially lost, with no phone battery.
My mind when into overdrive. Everyone I saw was going to murder me or mug me.
I was scared.
I chose to keep walking along whatever this road was called and then...saw my husband. Who was searching for me and thankfully had made a wrong turn from the hotel and ended up on this wrong street too.
He took me to the boys who gave me the best greeting ever and we headed to the bar for a much needed wine.
I decided to pop back to the room as I kept crying and just needed to let it all out.
I don't need to talk about the next bit.
I did have a positive experience of Britmums and I want to go again next year, whether or not I will has a question mark over it at the moment.
I met some amazing people who made me feel good about myself, until I hit this major self-doubt wall and now I just feel confused. I hate this part of me. This whatever-it-is that takes over my head and makes me question everything.
I will be writing about my positive experience, and about those who made my weekend great, but to get to that point I need to filter this bit out of my head first.
I've had an awful couple of weeks which have almost seen me delete my blog, delete Twitter and remove myself totally from the community.
It was therefore a massive thing to still go to Britmums despite feeling like that, and I'm gutted that Ms Crazy (me) had to turn up on Saturday afternoon and almost ruin it for me.
I was going to put a disclaimer about this not being attention seeking but I'm fed up with feeling like I need to do that.
I somehow managed to neglect my blog of any of my anxiety and I hate myself for that. This is supposed to be my space to write about it, not to seek attention but to unload my mind.
I've been hovering over the publish button for over 24 hours now. But
I need to see if unloading this part of my weekend will make the
happier times clearer so I can write about those, and not feel so
confused and paranoid.