Maybe he's on to something with this whole "new hat" business. My physical health is improving, I've lost enough weight to need a whole new wardrobe, but my grey matter needs a new hat. I know it's not normal to have trouble sleeping, to be frightened of groups of loving people, it's not right for me to shut myself away from everyone, but it's my only effective mechanism for dealing with the terror I carry "under my cap."
I stay home to keep myself calm. I prefer to be alone so I don't embarrass myself in front of friends. I'm isolated because, quite simply, I'm a bit of a "Debbie Downer," the SNL character created by Rachel Dratch. Yes I want move on, but first let me tell you about how my ex broke my ribs...
Panic attacks are awful, but I refuse to be defined by them. I shall search for a way to fasten a bonnet of faith upon my furrowed brow, and carry on. No, I'm not "soup" yet, but I'm a-simmerin.