In which my weekend was one part really good… and one part REALLY bad.
Friday was nasty. Whoo boy. Out of the blue I had a panic attack for the first time in a really long time and it sucked. And all because my heart decided to go arrhythmic. I sat at my desk in my own private hell and waited for the day to end so I could go home and curl up in my room in my misery.
The Dread continued on Saturday. I walked the dog and did laundry and cleaned the front bathroom, but was in and out of anxiety all day long. There were a few bouts of scary arrhythmia that pushed me from anxiety into full-blown panic.
Saturday night, I had a gig to go to. In spite of feeling like shit I took a shower and got dressed and went because I’m tough like that. Somewhere between the second and third sets I had a moment of pure terror, certain that this was it, it was finally happening, I was having a heart attack… but I didn’t pass out. I didn’t even fall over, actually. So I reminded myself yet again that the problem was actually my panic disorder and not some kind of actual physical malady and soldiered on out the door, which was where I’d been heading when my skin lit on fire for a second.
I love this old Polaroid! I bought it at the Rutledge flea market last month for a dollar.
