Do you think it's possible to become grateful for our anxious suffering? Can we learn from it? Is it just a painfully uncomfortable downer or can it help us to grow?
When all the tests came back with the medical equivalent of academic straight A's, I was dumbfounded. I asked my doctor why I felt such strange sensations when others did not.
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.
It might feel safer to avoid a trip to the mall. It might even save you from a panic attack. But, in the long run, the places, people, and situations that we avoid become more threatening to us.
I can certainly tell you that panic comes in waves -- and when the tide is low, I swim.
"Offer valid online only. Offer not valid in stores," the voucher said. "Perfect," replied my agoraphobic side. I wouldn't have to leave the house.
Here's the catch: when you distract yourself from panic, you also distract yourself from panic's slow retreat.