It’s been a while since I’ve experienced a full-blown anxiety attack — a year or so, maybe longer. Well, tonight was the night. Shallow breathing. Claustrophobia. Cold sweats. Free-floating heebie-jeebies. The works. And it’s not over yet. I’ve got it mostly under control, but I can still feel it lurking at my back.

I’m guessing I brought this on myself.

Last night, I made an attempt to accelerate the love –> indifference reaction with a kind of musical purgation therapy. I drowned myself in a list of songs that I knew would unleash a torrent of emotion. It did *that*, all right, but it may also have left me a little too shaken, a little too vulnerable, a little too susceptible to vestigial stimuli from the physical environment I’m forced to inhabit for a little while longer.

Ironically, even as my mind corrodes, my physical condition seems to be improving.

Ah, well. Can’t have everything.

(My tears are falling like rain from the sky. Is it for her or myself that I cry?)

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