Many years ago I had massive issues with time. I still do now to a certain extent but its nothing compared to how it used to be. I’m sure Brad would disagree given that he has to deal with my time issues now but he didn’t know me twenty years ago when it was at its worst.

I hated being late. I still do but back then I’d arrive an hour and a half early for things and sit in the car and read or drive around the area being nosey. I’d never drive too far though for fear of being stuck I traffic getting back or getting lost. If I was late for anything I’d be wracked with guilt and continue to apologise even after they’d told me it wasn’t a problem.

I hated other people being late and took it as a slight on our relationship, business or personal. If they contacted me and said they were going to be late that was fine. Even if the reason/excuse was simply just “I forgot!” that was still fine. Just as long as I knew.

I hated things running over without a reasonable explanation. If a meeting was booked from 1pm to 2pm and we we’re still there at 2.30pm in my head I’d be having a complete meltdown. Outwardly I’d be jittery and sometimes actually shaking. I’d be a mess.

If I had to be at work for nine I’d be up at six, showered and dressed by seven and then sit and watch television until half-eight.

My problem got so bad that while out one day I looked down to discover my watch had stopped. I pretty much went into shock. I literally couldn’t function without knowing what the time was. I got home and my other half could see the state I was and when I explained he gave me his watch. I was now wearing two watches and I was instantly calm. It was like a wave of peace just flooded over me.

From that day on that was the answer. Two watches! I wore two watches all the time. I put conditions in places when buying a new one that ensured I could always wear them. They had to be waterproof. One had to be analogue while the other was digital. In my bag or pocket I had to carry a third in case one of the two I was wearing stopped or broke. All of them had to be within five minutes of the correct time and each other.

This worked well and I was happy. I never had another panic attack at broken or stopped watches and, as usual, I was never late.

About two years after my meltdown I was invited to a wedding in Spain. My partner who’d given me his watch that night had long since ended our relationship but we’d stayed good friends and I was thrilled when I discovered he was invited to the wedding too. The couple getting hitched were mutual friends anyway so it was only right. I was even more thrilled when he asked me if I wanted to travel with him and share a hotel room. “At least I’ll be on time for the flights if I travel with you!” he said laughing. He was one of the few people whom I didn’t mind laughing at my issue.

So off we went. The wedding was great and Derek & I had booked to stay for the week following the wedding to have a bit of a holiday.

Lying on the beach Derek convinced me to take my watches off and put them in my bag. “You don’t want white lines in your tan do you?!” he said. He was right, I didn’t, so off they came and in the bag they went. The bag was right next to me. If I needed to know the time I’d got three watches right there I could reach in and look at.

After a few hours of bathing in the glorious sun we went for a swim. We’d met up with a group of other holiday makers the night before and they were in the water playing volleyball. We joined them even though I was shit at it. Eventually I wanted to dry off so headed back to my towel.

My bag was gone. All that was in it was some sun cream, about 1000 pesestas, a book and a hand towel. And my three watches.

I lost it. There and then in the beach I completely lost it. My towel was still there so I just sat on it and literally sobbed and rocked. Derek could see the state I was in so came running out the water to help me. His bag had gone too but his concern was the state I was in. He wasn’t wearing a watch so couldn’t give me his. It took him a while to calm me down and after the short walk back to the hotel we got dressed and headed into town.

I bought three new watches. Just cheap nasty things that did the job. Derek bought another four or five and said he’d have them with him just in case. It was only as I put the third watch into my new bag that I felt calm and relaxed and even then it wasn’t right. I was ashamed of the state I’d got in to.

On returned home Derek made enquiries about therapy and before long, at his expense, I was having sessions with a hypnotherapist. We went through the reasons behind it, which we never actually discovered, and came up with new coping mechanisms. After a few months I was, for want of a better word, cured.

I only wore one watch from that point and although I still wasn’t late for things it was more about common courtesy and respect than my issues with time. I was still occasionally early but only by ten minutes rather than an hour and a half. If a meeting ran over I had a ‘so what?’ attitude.

I’ve been fine ever since. I’m still early for a lot if things, such as flights or appointments, but again, it’s more about not wanting to miss anything rather than me being a nutter!

I still collect watches and have hundreds but its more to do with them being a nice piece of jewellery than a practical piece of equipment.

This morning as I left for work I put my watch on. Then I put on a second one. There is a third in my bag.

It feels… right.