Fighting off a panic attack is like fighting of a rabid starving dog hiding in the bushes. You don't know when it will happen but you can hear the growls following around. You walk calmly and carefully not wanting to upset him. There are times though a ringing phone, loud music, and clanking dishes will push him over the edge. Before you know it he got you down on the ground and you are begging, pleading, and fighting for your life. Sometimes you can drug the pooch. Sedate him. But he's still there, lurking in the shadows.
I really want to put that rabid dog to sleep, permanently, but do not know how. Life is short and precious and I do not want to fight that beast evermore! I want peace, joy, livelyness, and love to fill my sweet happy days.
I want to have a conversation with someone and not have a panic attack at some point after we talk. I would like to be less sensitive. This beast has dictated my life for years now and its crippling my free spirit. Then again that could be the problem. I am not as free as I want to be. Being an only child I never felt free to do and go and be. I know I would not live in Kansas! Or anywhere near here.
I do fell fenced in most of the time. I need the outdoors. Fresh air. Dirt on my hands. Hair ruffled by the wind. The sun tanning my skin. Walking in the warmth and breeze of the night on a full moon. Bathing nude in the moon light. Making love with the lighting bugs flashing between moans. The glory. The rapture. The pure beauty of it all. Oh, how I long.
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