SHOUTING

He shouted. Shouted really loud - right into my face. No, NO, NO. He came closer - still shouting. I put my hand up to stop him getting closer. I was calm. I felt my hand touch his chest, palm flat against him. He stopped. He was frustrated. And angry, very, very, angry. But he stopped.

I calmed asked him to stop. He looked at me and for just a second I wondered if I had misjudged him; was he going to strike me. And for a second I wondered if the same thought was going through his head. Was he going to strike me. Instead he moved back - shouted again, biting his hand in anger and left the room. Left the room to go upstairs and into his bedroom.

I know that with his disability he will probably hurt himself, pull off his bandages and split open his wound; break or rip or damage something. I know this.

And then the doubts come in - did I need to say no. Should I have just let him do it and then not worried but the trouble is he needs safe barriers, he needs to know that his environment is safe and sometimes this means saying no. It means he has to understand that he can't do everything he wants to do.

I felt wobbly inside. Like a shock wave coming over me. It had been such a nice shift but all of a sudden it was awful, painful even, frightening. I just wanted to run; to hide; to leave. But I couldn't. So I carried on - went into the office to calm and feel safe for me.

I had another shift to do the next day - I couldn't do it - it was too hard - what would happen next time. Would I give in from fear? Would I stand my ground? Would he go further? Would he hit me?

I have been over and over this incident. Was it my fault? Am I to blame? Yet I know in my soul I am not to blame. So I feel a failure, I fear my next shift, I know missing a shift is a black mark against me.

All the old fear, all the old failures come rushing back. Why can I not face the world and deal with it? Those days were bad. Like it is all to much for me. It is all too much for me.

And yet I carry on - like many people I have to. But each day, each incident makes me more aware of my need to balance and keep well. And each incident takes away something that takes such a long time to come back.