When Tradies Invade

Over the past couple of weeks, we've been having a bit of plumbing work done around the house. 

For me, one of my biggest fears is having people in the house. It doesn't matter if I know them or if they're strangers (although the latter is obviously worse). I just can't deal with it. At all.

The fear came pretty directly from the abusive 'relationship' (I hate that word - I prefer the term 'abusive situation') when I was 14/15. It was one of the last times I let someone in the house.

It's been this way for years. Four, maybe five years ago would've been the last time we had visitors. Even my brother's girlfriend of four years has only been over once or twice (and even then I wasn't actually in the house). I feel awful because I know it's unfair on my family, but I just can't cope with it.

Anyway, the plumbers have been here for four or five sporadic days over the past few weeks. They turn up pretty much when they feel like it, so I've been on edge the whole time, waiting for the phone call that banishes me to the garage with five minutes notice.

Last week was different. 8:30am, and mum and I are sitting on the back porch, having a coffee and a smoke as per usual, and there's a metallic clattering out the front. It sounds like ladders. Mum went to check if it was the plumbers, remarking that they'd usually call first. They'd been there the day before, though, and said they'd be back tomorrow.

Then I hear the front door open, and a "good morning!"
PANIC. I grab my phone, water bottle and smokes (the true essentials in life) and bolt inside. I don't know why I went inside when I usually retreat to the garage. But I ended up in my bedroom, sitting on the floor next to the bed, hyperventilating and sobbing and having one of the worst panic attacks I've had in a while.

Mum came in and found me. She told me the plumbers were still out the front if I wanted to go out to the garage. So I bolted again. She brought me out my meds, an extra lorazepam, my notebooks and a box of tissues. All I could say was "it's not okay, it's not okay".

I haven't been coping well with having them in the house at the best of times, but the fact they didn't even call made me totally freak out. It felt like the house had been invaded and I was trapped, and it was so not okay.

I kept telling myself; hey, at least it's the last day.
But of course, while doing the last job they discovered another problem with the guttering, so they'll be here for three full days this week.

...

Today has been another day of anxiety, waiting to see if the plumbers will turn up, because who knows if they'll call first or not. They did not. But tomorrow, the plumbers will be here, and I'll be cocooned in the lounge room from 8:30-4:30 for three days straight.

Usually, I base myself on the back porch for the bulk of the day, in my armchair, surrounded by all the necessary comforts. But with tradies hovering the perimeter, there's not a hope in hell of me sitting outside. The garage/car is simply not feasible for three whole days, as I wouldn't be able to go inside for anything in case they were near. My bedroom is a no-go, and I still haven't put the blinds up in my study. So it's the lounge room.

I even have a list of things I must do before 8:30 and things I cannot forget. This morning my notebooks (intake, smoking, notes-notebook and journal), smoking gear, pens, tweezers, water bottle, Coke Zero, were all in a pile ready to go.

I'll be ninja-stealth'ing it to the toilet and kitchen. Even though they'll be working outside, they'll still be walking through the house itself, and the lounge-kitchen-toilet is right along their rite of passage.

I really, really don't like having people in the house.

But I haven't thrown up for three days straight, so hey, bonus.

And I'm sorry for being so negative lately. I know it probably doesn't make for the most pleasant reading, but there just isn't a lot positive going on right now. Every thought I have is negative. I haven't been doing much at all. I stare at the wall, pick at my skin, and smoke. Everything just seems to take so much effort. I don't know why it's so hard. I'm just so sad, so stuck. It's actually been scaring me how low I feel. But I don't know what to do any more. Nothing's that simple.

Thank you guys for putting up with me through all of this. Seriously, it means the world to me to know there's a group of people who'll be there for me, good days and bad days. 

xxBella