All I wanted to do was drink my coffee and eat my grilled cheese and then call it a night. The pressure to participate in the upkeep of friendship was too exhausting to even consider. Why bother?

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Six cups of Americano. Six different days. Six different opportunities for me to blindly guess the caffeine content of each drink.

Earlier this week, I wrote about how Panic About Anxiety was chosen as ‘Blog of the Week’ on PA Live!, a lifestyle program local to northeastern Pennsylvania and broadcast on WBRE-TV.

And now, you don’t just have to take my word for it — I’ve got video proof! Check it out here.

I sincerely hope that it brings a few folks within the viewing area to my blog — especially my posts about my own struggle with anxiety might help someone to feel a little bit less alone.

This is probably the right time to tell you a story about one of my last grad school classes: Intercultural Communication. After a semester of learning about various cultural traditions and value orientations, my professor took a few minutes at the end of our very last class to discuss something personal: living in the moment.

It was May, and graduation was right around the corner. The class was filled with undergraduate seniors and second-year grad students — most of whom were about to be finished with school forever.

His speech went a little something like this:

I’m one of those oddballs who looked forward to the opportunity to raise my hand in class & ask questions.

I could have used a good hug on the night of my own first panic attack, so I was ready to dole out dozens, if needed, for her. If I couldn’t give hugs, I could at least lend an ear and some advice.

When practical, I prefer listening to my body (by napping) over fighting against my body (by stuffing it with caffeine until I feel energized again).

We might seem fortunate, us young folks, because we’re swimming in expensive and glamorous digital gadgetry. But we’re missing something big. Something my parents’ generation enjoyed as a whole.

No matter what your major, you’re going to find yourself staring at a blank Word document someday soon. And the blank Word document will stare right back at you, disdainfully, waiting for you to finally sputter out a few words.

The cost of Paxil CR multiplied. And I don’t mean by 2x, by 5x, or even by 10x. The cost multiplied by 12x. The cost of a year’s worth of Paxil CR suddenly became the cost of a single month’s worth of pills.