Not much to say about it. I’m feeling better now, out smoking a cigar. It was over a work issue that I don’t want to get into too much detail about here. Or that’s what triggered it. My anxiety issues run pretty deep, and even though I’ve made a tremendous amount of progress in managing it today seemed like a reminder that it’s always just right there, waiting for the right time to strike when I’ve let my guard down. It’s been awhile since I’ve needed a Klondike Bar (the nickname my sister gave the Clonidine). I may need to carry it with me for the next few days. But nearly as important as carrying it is recognizing that needing it is not a weakness. There are a number of tools at my disposal for managing the anxiety, from regular mindfulness meditation, taking quiet time for myself to work through issues (usually with a cigar) and being able to talk about it, either here on the blog or with someone, as I did today with my dad. Using those tools is a sign of strength, a reminder that I can manage the anxiety. The weakness is bottling it up or turning back to alcohol. Maybe weakness isn’t the right word. It’s the choice that won’t help me, but weakness has an air of judgment that I don’t want anyone who has made that choice to feel bad about. I’ve been there and it’s so hard to recognize at the time that it may not be a productive option. Anyway, I had a panic attack today. I’m trying to learn from it.