Panic Room Update

So, I went out for lunch with, what's fair to say, a measure of apprehension. There's something about being outside, a definite agoraphobic undertone, that seems to trigger it. Or, maybe it's being inside that makes it better (as in, it's not a fear of outside, but a comfort from being inside). Sort of a containment that helps me be calm, you know?

Ok, despite the previous paragraph, rambling is not one of the symptoms of this thing.

So, anyways, as soon as I step outside, I can feel all the discomfort from yesterday peering it's wretched, warty face from different corners of Madison Avenue. But, I figure this is just the fear or the memory of yesterday still fresh in my head, you know? So I take a few cautious steps out, paying close attention to see if I was okay. It's reminiscent of your first day back on the treadmill after suffering a hamstring injury. You take several cautious steps, almost expecting your muscle to give away and trying to assure yourself that you're healed. This is what I did today.

Half way there, I had a hairy few seconds where I almost stopped (but didn't) which didn't go away until I was indoors at the deli. I bought my food quickly and sped back to work. I'm inside now (no shit, Einstein, you're blogging, aren't you?) and feel better for it. Not very hungry though which kind of pisses me off (or, pisses me ALL the way off, as the English are fond of saying). It'd be interesting to see how I react when I go for my jog later today.

Maybe it'll spur me to push myself harder when I exercise. I mean, it's hard to imagine yourself with any kind of mental disease when you have a six-pack stomach.