Swipe the beach

Blip
(no pun intended!)

I wonder what price would come up...

It's been a beautiful, chilly day today. It's not been badly flooded anywhere I've been but the ground is really waterlogged.

I'm pretty tired but was really glad to get out.
The old anxiety's been a pain again. I've felt it coming on for days and last night reached a peak flappery stage. The only thing I could think to do was write it down.

I don't care anymore if people find it embarrassing or self-indulgent. When you have adrenalin flooding your body until your chest aches and can't think what to do writing is like a steam valve. The alternatives are never attractive. Although I suppose I could have run out into the garden and screamed at the moon...
;o)

Anxiety attacks are a bit like being handed a relay baton that gradually self-heats. You have to hold it and feel it become more difficult to hang on, but there's no track and no running allowed, and you mustn't scream and you mustn't complain. There's a strong urge to go somewhere but nowhere to go. You just have to hold on until your time is over. Jogging on the spot is permitted, but exhausting. So a chance to say how crap it feels and focus on something else for a while can help to stop the screaming.

So this is what I wrote last night: Where to go?

I'm glad a problem has been identified and I have something to blame. Shame I have to live with it though...

In other news: we haven't seen Gemma for days but just found out she's still alive so that's good. Joel has been hiding in his room being a fifteen-year-old, and Tess has been turning off the school's oil supply for a dare. Gawd...