this morning #638.

this morning, standing in the stairwell shivering, cradling her phone & craving answers, she considered who to call first, where the help she needed would come from. in the past, her instinct would lead her to her mother or, if the topic was a little too intimate, her sister. she rarely leaned on her friends. a sympathetic ear? sure. practical advice? they were not equipped to assist. she was ashamed that her anxiety had evolved into full blown panic attacks & wanted as few people to know as possible. it seemed like a job for her mom, whose calm demeanor had apparently skipped a generation. she started with her and a half hour later, she was soothed enough to move through her day.