PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Well, the only way to describe how I feel is that I believe I'm in the middle of a Guiness Book of World Records record-setting panic attack.

I remember when I had them, for intense short sessions, and the thing about panic attacks is you don't realize you're in them until you're right at ground fucking zero the sun is being eclipsed by the moon and an incoming missile is right over your head. Yee haw. It's a lot of fun.

Also, I'm running on fumes, and I'm trying to explain my soggy self to those most important to me, so they don't just leave me out by the road on the 17th of an odd-numbered month (Bulky Item Pickup Day).

James is on Red Alert, because I'm all over the place, what with the panicking & the weeping, and the requests for reassurance. So much so, tonight, he just looked at me and finally told me he felt like he couldn't say anything, he was on thin ice, my reactions weren't predictable, and I was very emotional.

It's funny how when you're in Ground Zero, things like being thin ice seem silly, almost preposterous, you're not being unpredictable, you have every right to ask for advice & reassurance. But as the eclipse begins to reverse itself, and the dark circle begins to wane, you see the truth illuminated, there's a mirror at your feet and as your breathing gets more regular, you know that where you stood was shrouded in confusion and shortsightedness.

I sent him an email tonight, and I think these words say it all:

You are my rock, even when you feel like you're on thin ice. You aren't. I am the ice; you are my shore.