Well. *That* Sucked.

Last night, something happened to me for the first time in over a year and a half. (No, not that. Sheesh.)

I had a panic attack, while trying to get ready for A Christmas Carol. I’d been doing great for ages, when all of a sudden, around 7:15, I started feeling anxious. Like some unknown really bad thing was going to happen, about which I could do nothing. A few minutes later, I felt a tightness in my chest that didn’t belong, and the impulse to Get Out raced through my brain.

I stepped outside, tried to shake the nervous energy out through my hands, loosened my tie and tried to slow down my breathing. Not that it necessarily worked. It didn’t, point of fact. When one of those bastards hits, the only thing to do is find someplace quiet to ride out the unnecessary adrenaline dump.

McCall came outside to check on me, saying I hadn’t looked right. I thanked her for coming out. We talked for a few minutes, trying to take my mind off the involuntary skittishness. This, among other reasons, is why she rocks.

It’s a stress thing. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with immediate circumstances, and rarely does. I really doubt it was the case last night, as there’s little in Christmas Carol to be nervous about. Nevertheless, that’s when my body chose to enter ‘fight or flight’ mode, with no-one to punch and oh yeah, I can’t fly.

It subsided (as they usually do) after a few minutes, but the damage had been done: I was spent, and the show hadn’t even started yet. Certainly not my best night.

Looks like I’ve got some assessing to do. Figure out what the heck jump-started my ticker when it was already runnin’.

And if anyone can explain why my right eye-socket hurts, I’d be grateful.