Last night I watched Broadchurch. I didn’t realise until I went to watch it (after half an hour after 9pm as I like to be able to skip through the adverts) that I’d actually programmed to record the 10pm showing on ITV+1 and because I’d already seen something on Facebook or Twitter that almost gave away who did it, I decided I didn’t want to leave it until the following night so I stayed up until gone 11pm watching the ending. I won’t give anything away in case someone else out there has yet to watch the ending but suffice to say I was in floods of tears. I went upstairs to bed and cried some more. My husband must have thought I had flipped (again) because I really wasn’t making much sense. And today, that feeling of sadness has stayed with me. I will try to express how I’m feeling in bullet points:
- The world is unfair and sad things shouldn’t happen – like children dying
- I know Broadchurch was not real but it was REALLY well done and touched me to the core and things like this do and have happened which is even sadder. Damn the writers of Broadchurch for making it so good and damn the bloody actors for doing it so well.
- Every way I turn I seem to hear about sad/cruel/terrible things happening to people and their families/children and I can’t seem to shut myself off from it.
- I’m terrified that something will happen to me and my lot
- I’m terrified that if said thing happens to me I’m going to regret the time I didn’t spend with them (what a morbid way to think but hey, its what’s going on in my brain right now)
I have already taken one of my emergency anti-anxiety pills today – first time in a while. I feel generally panicky and like I don’t know what’s coming next and what I should do next.