Une fleur willting dans l'obscurité du soleil

I had a panic attack last night, first time in at least three years. Debilitating and scary, I thought my heart was going to explode from my chest as everything went blurry as I hit the floor. At least twenty minutes went by before I could get up and then I cried for the next two hours, scared to death about what had happened and how to prevent it in the future. That's where the problem is, prevention, and knowing that one is coming on, which in my experience has been next to impossible. I'm even more scared by the situation where my son is present or needing my immediate attention and he finds me on the floor. Last night I couldn't even get to my phone to place a call or send a text off if I had had to. Am I becoming agoraphobic as I seek to find the doorway out of this mental prison my whole being feels trapped in? The first step here is knowing what triggers them and staying away from those trigger points, which at this time, is a blurry island in the distance. I'm starting to think this physical solitude is getting the best of me despite my best efforts to beat it. I don't know how else to spell it out other than to continue to stress my fear in it all and not knowing if help will be on it's way if this continues. What if I can't get to the phone, what if there's no one here to help me, what if something worse than a panic attack happens. I'm scared

I layed in bed for hours this morning with the same questions and emotions flooding my ability to think or see clearly. It was hard to get my feet to the floor wondering if moving would bring on that heart thumping anxiety, which turned into more anxiety about being anxious. By noon I was out of the shower, laundry making it's way through cycle after cycle and I went out the door for some cathartic isolation in a humid guitar room where the only sounds come from the smell of real wood, which drown out the voices in my head. From each strum and pick of a copper string, colors morph from black to blue and red and the simplicity of the guitar becomes the only thought it my head. It's a perfection of beauty in solace.

3 sets of new strings later, I've identified my next guitar purchase to join my growing flock of stringed beauties that make hours feel like minutes and further inspire me to write more and more music and learn those songs that bring feeling to words and emotion to the eyes of those folks smart enough to hear it. I couldn't imagine being one of the people on this planet that doesn't allow music to enter their souls and effect them the way music impacts me. Maybe I should though, from time to time, forget the music and just stay oblivious. HA, as if that would be possible.

Redemption Song keeps running through my head today, which finally defeats
3EB's "How's It Gonna Be", which has been on the tip of my tongue for days now. Today feels like a Bob Marley day, think I'll go grab 'Exodus' and jam out for a bit. Feel free to do the same, turn the lights down, sit back and... yeah, good stuff.

Think anxiety is a good reason to smoke weed? Wonder if I should take that up? Probably not, unless you live in California, maybe there you can do that. Hmmm

So there's the insight into my Saturday (minus one not so awesome conversation, and one really awesome friend who listens to me no matter what), still a lot of day left to go attack as soon as I figure out exactly what that entails. Until then, I'm going to sit back and watch my Bronco's play football, my Sounders play futbol and me taking deep breaths to avoid any further panic immobilizing nonsense today.

Stay Blessed-