Trains

I love to travel, and I love to travel on the train; but every journey gives me a sudden sense of fear.

"Am I on the right train?" "Is this the right stop?" "I'm never going to make it to the other platform before my next train leaves."

These are only a few of the sudden doubts I have in my own capability as a functioning human being.

I sit on the train waiting for the voice above to state the train's destination with my fingers crossed, praying mine is among those mentioned. Never have I found myself on the wrong train but the panic sets in everytime.

Even sitting here now writing this. I dread the horrors that await me at Birmingham New Street, when boarding the train home. I wish my route from Derby avoided New Street altogether. Everytime someone makes me want to yell: "HELLO!! I am here, clearly you didn't notice my five foot eight build and bright blue suitcase until you knocked me over." The best is, these people then have the nerve to moan about me, even though I tried to avoid the oncoming crowds.

Then more panic; "has the time spent being trampled made me late for my train?" "Have I missed it?" Just the other day a situation similar to this nearly made me miss my connecting service. I sat in the seat by the door absolutely seething, trying to catch my breath before the fear set in that I had to remember when to get off.

I sit and stare at the beautiful countryside scenery flying past the window; noone can see the terror or imagine the whirlwind tearing through my insides. I sit here quietly, I take in everything around me; speak when spoken to, smile when smiled at, but noone can sense the fear.

On a trainful of people I can't be the only one worried about ending up in the wrong destination. It can't just be me.