You ever wake up with that feeling of impending doom, like something is about to happen - something bad - and you just don't know what?
That's how I woke up this morning. I've been looking over my shoulder all day, constantly refreshing the CNN page waiting to see that red-bannered breaking news headline announcing armageddon.
I was exchanging emails with Faith this morning about September 11 and how days with a beautiful blue sky and pleasant temperatures always make us think of that day.
And then I had my first panic attack in over a year. The last one was in March 2002 and shortly after that (that day I had a series of panic attacks lasting almost the entire afternoon), I started taking anti-anxiety medication and life has been panic-free since [I've had panic attacks since 9th grade, so we can't blame that on 9/11].
And then today. I was attempting to cross Main street in order to get a salad from McDonald's. My feet froze. I broke out in a cold sweat and headed into that void where everything feels like a dream and I knew the closed throat and short breaths were not far away. I walked back into the building, composed myself and walked back out again. I wasn't going to give in to this one.
I eventually made it to McDonald's and back into my office, but I write this with shaky hands and a light head.
As Faith said: I know I ask this over and over, and that there's no answer, but when does it stop?
What I want to know is why does it keep suprising me? Why does that day and the panic sneak up on me in my sleep and wake me like a sinister alarm clock sometimes? Why do I carry that feeling throughout the day and let it hang over me like a storm?
And yes, when will it stop?