Is there anything worse than being in a supermarket , at the self checkout, with a mile long queue of people waiting and hearing the lady robot say “Sorry, card declined” ?
Actually there is. Its hearing the lady robot say it 4 times when you try every card in your purse but they are all either maxed out or have no available funds. Then , to my shame, I feel the tears stinging my eyes and no matter how hard I tell them to go away politely, they begin to trickle down my face.
Its hard holding back the emotions when your mind is unstable. To all my friends and colleagues I’m a laugh a minute . But today , to that impatient queue of shoppers waiting to buy tonights dinners or tomorrows lunches, I was just a pain in the arse who should not come out shopping at that time of day if I’m going to hold everyone up.
I heard their tuts and huffs. The sniggers of the overmade up teen with her droopy trousered hanger on are also ringing in my ears
What things should I put back? I need my dinner. The dogs need their dinner. I suppose I can go without my breakfast tomorrow. And I have enough bread left for the kids lunches.
Just as I’m about to call the irritated staff member over to remove items from my bill I am greeted by my son. He looks at me , slightly concerned and when I explain I can’t afford my shopping he just casually taps his phone on the card reader and says “Give it back to me when you get paid Mum” .
I thank him. We leave. I know this won’t be spoken of again. I also know that I am going to beat myself up over it for the rest of the evening. My mental health will be riding a carousel all evening , up and down, round and round . But I’ll save the tears for bedtime.
***Today, I am so grateful to my son and his compassion towards me***