I've been MIA once more and now I'm not sure where to start with this post... Apologies? Non-religious self flagellation? How about I am just human, and not flawless. I do what I can. I try my best. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I learn.

These last few days have been rough on me, but I did my best to smile through the uncertainty. Then I cracked and I ended up having a panic attack which was very intense and lasted for well over an hour. I felt like I was dying. I hadn't had a panic attack in months. The last time I had a panic attack was one morning, on my way to my old job. I remember waking up and not feeling right. I wanted to call in sick, but there wasn't anything actually wrong with me, so I pulled myself together and got on my way. I got on the bus, which was packed and I instantly felt claustrophobic. I felt sick and tears started to build up. I noticed people looking at me funny. I was only on the bus for two stops, when I had to get off. As soon as I got off, I sat down at the bus stop, and burst into tears. I couldn't breath. My head felt like it was about to explode. My hands and feet went numb. I started rocking myself back and forth. I wanted to scream, but didn't. I just kept thanking God that I was alone. That nobody was there to watch me falling apart. Eventually it stopped, I got on another bus, and made my way into work late. I just remember being grateful that although I felt like I was dying, I was actually not dead. That was my last panic attack until a few days ago. Only this time I wanted to die. I felt guilty. I felt like a failure. I felt like a burden. This time I wasn't alone or in public. It happened during my lunch break at work, and I was with a friend. He stayed with me, tissues in hand at the ready to help me wipe away the tears and comfort me. I was left with a massive headache that lasted a few days, and wouldn't go away with any painkillers. I wouldn't wish any of this on anybody.

I'm not sure if I mentioned this here before or not, but I had my bag stolen about a year ago with my passport inside, and it's been a real drama trying to get my passport replaced. The more time passes, the more I am convinced that that theft wasn't a coincidence; but I have no evidence to prove that someone stole my bag knowing that it was mine, - and also possibly knowing what was inside, in order to spite me. Fast forward to today, and this means that I am 'stuck' in Madrid, while my mum is about to face surgery on her own in London, because I couldn't fly out to be with her. She is getting older, and frailer, and she needs me to be with her in person more than ever right now. It kills me that I cannot be there.

Her surgery had originally been scheduled for March, and I had planned to travel to London in March on an emergency document. Then the Doctors decided that my mum's condition was too serious, and couldn't wait, so they brought the operation forward to this month. It was too short notice, and my only option was to stay here, and pray. My mother isn't the calmest of people and she is getting so old and frail, which just adds to the problem. She is petrified of needles. She hates hospitals. And I know that my presence would make the world of difference for her. It would make her calmer, and it would make the whole process easier for her - and for me. Even when I was a little girl, I had to be there to hold my mum's hand for a standard blood test, as she squirmed like a child. Weirdly enough, I have never been afraid of needles, and I always have to watch when they are taking blood from me. I don't enjoy watching it, I just feel safer seeing what they are doing to me, rather than just feeling it.

I've watched my mother's health decline since I was a child, and I was always there. She didn't doesn't trust anyone more than me. We were always a team and I often adopted the role of mother and nurse. I'm very maternal anyway, so it just came naturally to me. It feels so alien to me to be here when she is there, about to face surgery alone. This is the second time this has had to be the case, and the first time she came out of surgery in a terrible state, and I know it was in large part, down to my absence. I wanted so badly to fly to London to be with her this time, and not being able to, broke me.

I should have known a panic attack was coming. I had vertigo for a few days beforehand. As well as insomnia, and on and off loss of appetite. I was irritable and extra sensitive. I knew I wasn't myself, but I kept ignoring the signs, and forced myself to be strong. I felt I had no other option. I'm sorry if I'm rambling now. My point is, I've been on an emotional roller coaster for a few days now, and that's why I've been MIA.

This might sound stupid to some people, but it's not stupid to me. I've always been the sort of person who takes care of others, and luckily I've been blessed to have good people around me. Now is no exception. I'm not sure what we'd do without our friends right now. I find a lot of consolation in knowing that even though I am here, she is surrounded by a lot of good people who love her.

I managed to have a long chat with my mum over the phone this afternoon, and luckily that seemed to put her in good spirits. I sent her some gifts with a friend who traveled to London today. I told her about it, so she at least has that to look forward to from me. Hearing her voice put me at east as well. The anxiety went away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of calm take over. I pray that everything will turn out wonderfully well for her, and that all this stress and worry will not have been in vain.

Now that my not-so-little rant is over, I want to share a slightly 'old' outfit with you. The photos aren't the best, which was why I wanted to put this look on hold and re-shoot it, but you can see the outfit clearly, - and I don't want to not post anything for ages like I usually end up doing, despite the circumstances. I like the head shot I shared above because I look so much like my mum when she was younger in that photo. I seem to have developed a little addiction for Primark. Maybe I should start signing up for Primark-Addicts-Annonymous. I had wanted a cold shoulder top for ages. I know they are nothing new, but I always thought they looked wrong on me. Until now. And yes, I am that fat girl who wear leggings as trousers, and no, I do not apologise for it. I wear thick cotton leggings that are not sheer, and I happen to like my legs enough to feel perfectly comfortable to reveal their shape in all their glory. And of course, how can we forget how much I love my Chie Mihara shoes?

I don't want to make empty promises about posting soon, because frankly, I need to focus on other things for a while, but I will be about. I will mostly be updating my Instagram account (@RebequitaRose) so follow me there if you're not already. I mostly share makeup selfies on there, random things I find interesting, and notify you when I update my blog as well.
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