We had a wonderful party yesterday, with friends and tons of food and laughter, so much laughter my stomach aches just thinking about it. At one point I wound up rolling around on the couch laughing as Carl kept insisting that "Even my father loves my (meat)balls!"
Who'd have guessed that I woke up with a panic attack at 6 that morning?
I'm so outgoing and bombastic that it sometimes hides my social anxiety. I've got it, though. I felt as though all I wanted to do was hide out with Adam and Oliver ... and no one else.
Eventually I found myself crying. Oh shit. I'm also scared about going to Kimmel Harding.
New environment, new people, expectations. 92-degree heat with 1600 percent humidity. And I'm going to be away from the people I love for two weeks.
It's not that I was braver in the past. It's that I didn't admit this shit. I do now.