Eruption

The residue of yesterday's panic attack stayed with me for most of the evening. Not a pleasant sensation: the back of my neck and shoulders prickling like I had seen a ghost. My mood was even. I felt like a prisoner in my own body, struggling to master it, to break out.

If I escaped, where would I go? Floating over the Andes, maybe I could explore the civilization of the Cloud People, who built tombs in wooden contraptions built high on the sides of cliffs.

Actually, I skimmed across Wellington County countryside with evening light lying golden on the fields, September shadows stretching like giants. I stopped by a farmhouse and barn I had wanted to photograph, hoping the slanting rays of light would brighten the wall of the barn, but it was still under shade of a stand of walnuts.

Instead I photographed goldenrod and Virginia creepers along the fence row. And a dead raccoon on the side of the road, its mouth pressed open in a final gasp.

Anxiety rode my shoulders like a demon all the way to Toronto. I parked at the mall and walked to Danny and Bill's. No one was here. The symptoms stayed until Bill and Daniel came home a little later. It seems funny, I wasn't lonely, but my skin stopped prickling after Bill hugged me.

No roosterbear and quillon yet. Darren phoned on the way back from Niagara Falls. It had been further than he remembered. It was just as well. I didn't feel like going out last night.

Shortly after Danny came home, about 10, we went to bed. I couldn't imagine how I would settle down. The tingling had gone, but my body still flet wired. I should have danced a tarantelle.

As soon as I lay down beside him, I realized how exhausted I was. My body deflated, all my emotions pouring out like tired air. I dissolved into the pillow.

This morning I feel better, but will call the shrink again. I'm pissed off. The medication is supposed to treat this kind of thing, instead it's screwing me. I can't think of any other explanation for what happened yesterday.

It's not like I was worried about plucking elderberries. What else was on my mind? The end of the world? Death, damnation, constipation? No, I was thinking about elderberry syrup and driving to Toronto, and then my nerves erupted, conflagrated, crawled up into my throat like a crocodile out of the Nile.

The next question is what to show my friends of Toronto. We'll see what we're all up for.

My head doesn't feel much creativity this morning. The free write thing works when I have images flashing, ideas sprinting through like antelope across the plain, but I have no fine images from the past 24 hours except that drive yesterday afternoon.

It was calming. Later, walking along Hallam Avenue to Danny's place, I remembered to do my meditation, "Let me be peaceful and at ease...." It's good to remember something like that when your body is poking itself. Rest in the assurance that no matter what happens, the universe will continue to unfold. I felt like it was unfolding in my chest, like some god set himself loose and decided to make galaxies, send them spinning down the nape of my neck.