I'm not really driving a lot these days. I still have my license...I even changed my car insurance recently, for the first time in many many moons. But my car? It sits sad and lonely and unused. I don't really trust myself to drive it, so I don't. Every day, I think "maybe tomorrow", and then I lay down, and listen somewhat mindlessly to whatever plays on the television, or just go back to sleep without even trying to focus on a show or a film.

When I go somewhere, to a doctor's appointment, to a store, just to see a friend...someone else takes me, and my balance is so off that I'm using my cane nine times out of ten even just to walk from the door to the car. Even inside of the house, it's actually more safe to use it than not. It feels like the world is falling apart around me, which is somewhat frustrating.

I'm losing my words. Words were my life, the ability to string them together into phrases people liked to read, I was proud of that. And sometimes these days, I don't even make sense to myself...much less anybody else. All the notebooks in the world won't do me any good if I can't remember what I want to say, or how to write it down in a way that will make sense to the people around me.

Maybe it's stress. Maybe I've finally just hit the point of being so completely burned out that I need to just crawl into my little cave, and relax for a while, with no pressure on me. Maybe that's all it is. But somehow I doubt it. I've been down this road before. The mood swings, the headaches, the loss of speech, and the seizures. I know what all of those things are, and what they mean. And the truth is, I *am* tired. I've been tired. And I've been under so much strain that it's unbelievable, for so long that I really can't remember when I *haven't* been trying to keep it all together.

I can actually, vaguely, see an end in sight, to needing to hold it all together. And that might actually give me a sense of relief, and the ability to just sit down, and relax, and let it all go, and be taken care of for a while. That hasn't happened in a very, very long time. And that might be what I need.

I can't breathe, and I mean that in a very literal way. I've been having panic attacks, probably 15-50 times a day, that feels like I can't breathe, and I have to concentrate on unlocking my chest and relaxing all of those muscles, or I feel like I'm suffocating. I have pills for anxiety, but I can't really take them all day, every day, or I'd be more comatose than I already am.

So my solution to most of this was to start writing again, to get the fear out of my mind, and down somewhere else, so that I stop dwelling constantly on it. I learned that a long time ago, at least I'll have it out of my head. I'm taking all the steps I *can* take to handle all the rest, and that's as good as I can make it

I have people here, around me, who love me, and who are willing to take care of me if I need that. Who help me, and who understand me. I'm lucky about that.