It’s 10:30 Saturday night. It’s getting close to time to go to bed. I have been up since 3:00 am and I woke up into the worst panic attack I have had yet.
It’s been one week since I woke up a broken man and every night I’ve had an anxiety attack in my bed. Perhaps tonight, I will catch a break.
When I was a kid, it was migraines. I used to get one every weekend because, I assume, I was home with “them.” Now it’s anxiety attacks, but at least one every day so far.
You might wonder: Jesus, Chris, what the hell? They last less than fifteen minutes. What’s the problem? The problem is that when you are in one, you lose faith it will end. Logic escapes you. You are in a vortex of fear. It is black and frightening. You can’t use your mind to help yourself.
I have to stop talking about myself with friends. My place to talk is here. I do not want to be a bore/self-obsessed…. In two days, I see Dr. Shoja. Thank God.