[personal ramblings with no real point follow]
I need a calming influence. The sound of waves crashing against the shore, perhaps, backed with the soothing melody of Zamfir'
s flute or whatever that is he plays. Maybe a field of clovers and daisies in which to lay down and stare at the sky, looking for ice cream cones in the clouds while James Earl Jones reads aloud from a book of sonnets as Stephen Green slowly...
Did I say that out loud? Sorry.
It's not been a great day here at chez ASV
. I experienced my first panic attack in over two years and my skin is warm and tingling, signifying another one in the works. Ah, yes. The first thing you will say is: this election is to blame! Well, no. Not so much. It's more like a amalgamation of not enough hours in the day, not enough sleep in the night, not enough money in the checking account, not enough patience to deal with certain people; too many things on my plate, too many things left undone around the house, too many afternoons and evenings being the sole parent in the car pool; worrying about my kids worrying about friends, relationships, college applications and basic algebra; worrying about my husband worrying about money, the lawn, his mother, his career, and fretting about everything I can't control but wish I could, including the stupidity of mankind and bad drivers - who probably can be controlled with a gun, but that really wouldn't make life any better for me in the long run, would it?
I haven't had a day like this since I went off the meds
and if I only get one of these every couple of months, I'll live with the trade off of not choking down brain altering chemicals every day.
I bet that's the last time you ask "how are you doing?" and really mean it. Anyone have James Earl Jones's phone number?
So, as I'm looking for some kind of calm to keep the shortness of breaths to a minimum, Smashing Pumpkins' Mayonaise
comes on the Launchcast radio and all is right with the world. Deep breaths. None of the above things are insurmountable.