(If you missed the first three parts of this story, click here, then here , and then here.)

The scene: a small road off of a two-lane state highway in the woods. The cell phone coverage: first none, then a single bar. My panic state: full blown.

I was laying down in my car, following the EMT-in-training’s instructions to avoid sitting up or moving around, and I was scared nearly to death. I shook, I gasped for air, and I palpitated.

I hated every single second that slowly and dreadfully crawled by. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t even conjure up the energy or the clarity of mind to reach for my Ten Rules for Coping With Panic worksheet that lives in my wallet. I was in the middle of nowhere, I was stuck, and I couldn’t escape without help. Not only was I about to receive medical help, but I’d had to call my husband and ask him to drive 40 miles to be with me.

Ugh. Failure.

The word kept repeating in my head: failure failure failure.

Keep your “what if” statements simple. Tempting as it may be, don’t follow their improper and twisted logic. They’re fiction.

While soaking in all of this information might help to make me more certain, it definitely jars my nerves.

Maybe this is where I just need to let go. Just let go of my thoughts. All of them. All of my worries. All of everything.

Only a few days left, and I’m still ruminating about everything that could go wrong on the big day. Let’s see how many of my worries I could formulate into a list or two.

There’s the obvious stuff, like unexpected rain. Then there’s the klutzy stuff, like tripping and falling face first while walking down the aisle. And then there’s the panic-related stuff.

There wasn’t a single place I could go during a rainstorm and feel safe. There wasn’t a single place in that damn office where I could allow my panicky feelings to de-escalate.

Each downpour filled the entire office with an ambient white noise that spiked my adrenaline level. When it rained, I couldn’t sit still.

But it’s finally time to emerge from those fluorescent-lit caves that we call home during the coldest months. It’s time to get back outside and reconnect with nature after avoiding it for so long.

The shortest day of the year is the day when the earth betrays us and withholds the sunlight we need to lift our mood, to grow, and to thrive. But it all gets better from here.