I awoke this morning and felt a panic attack coming...man, I hate that. I can't breathe, and the harder I try to fill my lungs, the harder it becomes.
My first thought is to simply lie in bed and 'wallow', I don't even know about what, but I figure what the heck maybe I'll let this attack will push me over the edge, but thinking about what's over the edge is more scary than the moment I'm in; so, I take as deep a breath as I can muster. Zorro feels me stir, and is immediately, and literally in my face.
Ah ha, a reason to get out of bed. Soon CC is there as well. Another reason for me to put my feet on the floor. I tell myself to think about something, anything to take my mind off myself and on to something constructive and up-lifting. Work is good. So I begin my daily routine. I think today that is going to be a struggle. But, I refuse to let this, this, disabling condition control my life.
So, I'm up, the creatures have been fed, I have a cup of coffee, I'm at my computer and about to start work. Life is good, life is good, life is good.
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