I try to relax.  The sinking feeling is again in the pit of my stomach, seeming to throb with weight and pull on my esophagus, the back of my throat.  I breathe deeply to calm myself, which briefly raises my heart rate and makes me worry more.

I grasp my water bottle – an old friend at times like these – and bring it to my lips.  It jutters there, spilling about as my fine motor control goes to shit.  I can hold my hands out straight and stiff as a board, but any delicate act and they suddenly develop a mind of their own.

I yawn once again, compulsively.  It feels fake, but good.  Gives me something to do.

I feel light headed.  It passes.

Jake?

Yes, here.

You’re next.

Thank you.

I’m shown to a nice, if dated, room.  Colors are subdued, which is nice because all of my senses seem too much on edge.  The lighting is provided by upward facing sconces, as opposed to downward facing fluorescent office-building bulbs.  Another nice touch.  A miniature water fountain burbles in the corner.  I suppose it would make me want to urinate, if I weren’t so anxious.  I feel like the sahara.  I grab my water bottle and pull again.  It is a 64oz, oversize sports bottle.  It holds half a gallon.  I have drunk 3 since this morning.  I am on my fourth and it is nearly empty.  This makes me anxious again and my eyes dart, looking for a sink or a drinking fountain.  I suppose the little zen fountain will have to do in a pinch.  I lean forward, actually considering it, when the psychologist walks through the door.

(Continued after the jump...)

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Of the demonstrably wise there are but two: those who commit suicide, and those who keep their reasoning faculties atrophied by drink.
Mark Twain

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I walked down this road. Twice. Moving, sliding really. Concerned but aloof. I developed my courage through pain, but you know that already. You know that already.

I'm not the man I once was. I can move twice, but that's as far as it goes. I type out my missives on my Electra-Plus - you can laugh, but what do you write on?

I walked a height today. Climbed in the cab of a crane - but that's not exactly lifting a christmas tree to god is it? Or waving an american flag in his face. We like to do that don't we. Waving things in his face I mean. That's how it started.

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Yep, I finally did it. Brand new shiny software. Yay.

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