Now what? I’m stressed. I’m trying to breathe. Everything’s going to be okay. My old coping skills don’t work. Binging on anything: junk food, alcohol, screen time, theater of the mind (AKA sexual fantasies), only makes things worse. I’ve learned that the hard way: experience. The last thing I need right now is to be throwing up, to be lying in bed wishing I could throw up, or to be lying in bed wishing I could be put out of my misery permanently. My new coping skills: breathing (trying to calm my nervous system with slow, deep, steady breathing), “dancing” (slowly moving, waving, stretching my body parts to expend excessive nervous energy), and happy future tripping (trying to come up with creative ways in which I can be a blessing to someone else). I obviously need a lot more practice with these coping skills. I feel like a toddler just beginning to learn how to walk. I stumble, fall, and wobble all over the place. And I need constant reminders to even try walking instead of merely scooting along the floor or remaining stuck in place like a beached whale. Now, I walk, or attempt to, one wobbly, feeble, baby step at a time.