The lot of a hypochondriac is not easy. I had a massive panic attack this morning. It was so bad I sent my sister the keys to my blog, just in case I really was going to drop dead or stroke out or something. Of course, as you can see I lived. I managed to get through it an hour or so and the rest of the day was busy but pleasant enough. The sun came out for a while and the warm rays did me a world of good.
It's the damnest thing having an anxiety disorder. It hit me late in life. I've been fearless for most of it; more than willing to tempt fate for an adrenaline rush and I'm still not afraid to die. I've had a good life and harbor few regrets.
When the attack is over, I always think, "Why did that happen?" I can't seem to find an answer.