I dont know why I'm writing this. I just had an experience that I feel the need to share so I'm sharing.
Mum and I took the cat to the vet this morning. Routine senior check up and booster jabs. She's fine ("very bright for 15"). That's not the point of the story; or maybe it is, I don't know. We sat with her in the waiting room as she meowed gently in her pet carrier - she's never liked it - and I thought back to the last time I'd been to that particular vet's surgery, and sat in that waiting room outside consultation room 1. We went in with a frail, senile, elderly tabby with gorgeous green eyes and a piercing meow. We came out with an empty box. Maybe this experience explains what happened next.
Sitting next to Lolly, listening to her sweet little meows, I experienced something I'd previously only ever heard about from other mental health patients. I came out of myself and left the room. Suddenly, on the uncomfortable wooden bench in the sterile waiting room under the harsh strip lights on the ceiling, I didn't recognise the place. I went with it for a while, and that's something I'll be keeping to myself; I can't really explain where I went because I don't actually know, but I do know it was my experience alone. The next thing I needed to do was come back to the room. Grounding techniques. Feet on the floor. Where am I? In the waiting room, outside the vet's consultation room, in the back of the pet shop, in the retail park, five minutes up the A47 from the house where I live. My mum and my cat are with me. It's 11:54am. It's December. I think I'm back now.
I went in with the cat to have her jabs, we got in the car and we came home. I had some soup for lunch and now I'm trying to interpret the experience I had earlier. If anyone's experienced anything like this and wouldn't mind sharing, I'd appreciate that. I could use a second opinion.
