That falling feeling

I often find that feeling like I’m going to fall over is worse than the actual hitting the ground part. Not always,  but sometimes.

I’d say that I manage to stop myself in time a lit more often than I do actually take a tumble. The fact I don’t hurt myself is great,  but so is that fear that I might fall and hurt myself.


I’ll admit that there’s never a good time to hit the deck really,  but when I feel like I’m going to it usually comes at the worst time, normally when there’s no hope of a soft landing.

It happened the other day when I was trying to carry a mug of tea across the living room.  It’s not something I do often because I don’t want to spill it everywhere,  but I’d already had quite a bit of it and the cup wasn’t very full.

It went ok at first and then I made it to the middle of the room and realised there was nothing for me to hold on to.  I started to feel wobbly and had flashbacks of what I like to call my gravy fall that I had last year and thought I would fall and spill tea everywhere like I did with some gravy I was carrying across the kitchen.

I was nervous. I wanted to run to the sofa before anything happed but I couldn’t because of the drink in my hand. I took a deep breath,  I kept my cool and the fall was avoided.

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