I breathe, therefore I blog.

My forehead starts to sweat, my ears begin ringing, I'm disoriented, and I sort of feel like I've contracted a rare virus that is going to kill me within the hour. I'm having a panic attack again, and I don't realize it until it has passed. I never do. I'm too, well, panicked.

Here's the thing about my panic attacks, though: I've learned to appreciate them. They require me to stop and take a break. When my mind fails to convince me that it's okay to pause, my body takes over. I'll take that.

It's like coming down with a cold when you were Jonesin' for a day off, anyway. It's sort of a blessing in disguise.

Instead of going to the city today, I'm on my couch in my sweat pants watching a movie. It's time I didn't plan to have, but time I need.