I just sat at 1st birthday party and felt the walls closing in on me. I sat watching my two boys play around me while I searched on my phone for a local therapist, who takes my insurance, to finally talk to about my anxiety. In the past 2 months I've convinced myself that I must be dying but today I made the decision to try something else because I'm really not living either. I found one in my area, sent an email and was able to somewhat join back in the rest of the party. I even ate some cake and ice cream, which I consider a small victory because I was convinced yesterday that I had completely lost my appetite and added that to my list of symptoms...
... It's the little things.