HardBlast, Ancient Dwarven Warrior & Ascended Master, speaks of PANIC ATTACK Triggers

A message from; Hardblast's Spirit:

Dear Ones. . .

Ya might be askin yerself, “What would he know about panic attacks?” Well, I tell ya, I cause a lot of them, actually. Me and Hilda (that’s my axe).

Now, ya take fer instance, my favorite little shop of frothy coffee. The women who work there get into quite a routine, they do, spinning drinks, serving drinks, collecting money, and repeat. They can look right through you if you stand at the counter. So, sometimes, Hilda and I just pop onto their back line and wander around on the other side of the counter. Now, you would think they might get used to finding a suave dwarf like myself, with a big axe, in their back room, but hey, no they don not really. I seem ta always take’m by surprise, and sometimes their faces will turn all red, and their eyes get all big like this, and they start wheezing and fighting to breathe (I am rather handsome). Anyway, they always seem to feel so inadequate to deal with the situation at hand, you know, and even though I explain to them that they have indeed precipitated this encounter themselves, through their own mental processes, and the Law of Attraction, they always just want to put things back into order, which usually means that I have to stop playing, and go back on the other side of the counter, me and Hilda.

The same thing happens at Sax when I wander around the back stock rooms looking for the latest black trench coat fashions before they hit the sales floor. The little teenage girls are always surprised to see such a chiseled specimen of masculinity wandering about in their Softlines stockroom. I can tell, by the mindless stammering, that they feel very inadequate. And no amount of my explaining the Law of Attraction to them has ever got me a single phone number.

So there ya have it. *Sniff* Sniff* and I didn’t even work up a good sweat. I know, it ain’t no namby-pamby panic attack recipe, with cinnamon and raisins, but, hey, it is a recipe that works, especially if you’re a hot one like me. All it takes is something unexpected, something that you feel totally helpless and inadequate to handle. Like being asked to stand up and give your first speech. (Lol: Why did teacher call on me first?)

And, it works especially well, if you’ve had a bad helpless experience before, like falling into a deep hole, (raise yer hands. Yes! I see ya) and then you experience a trigger event that gives you that same falling feeling again. You panic, and start thrashing about like a dwarf with empty hands (!!!!) to grab onto something, anything (especially something shiny!) and restore order. It’s sort of like someone who has a fear of flying in the first place, who experiences sudden turbulence on a flight, and freaks out. A trigger, takes them into a sudden state of feeling inadequate. . .

That’s probably why that Viagra stuff sells so well. But hey, we won’t go inta all that sort of “inadequate,” . . .now.

So, the solution is simple: drink more whisky! It gets your courage up, and slows your trigger down. Yeeeeeha !!

But (and they say mine IS spectacularly small and muscular), of course, if ya be sharing yer body with various spirits and all, and one of them was, lets say, burned at the stake three hundred years ago, when they shared somebody else’s body, – well then, you can see why a surprise encounter with fire just might produce a panic attack in one o’ yer posse, in you, and leave you wondering just what the hell that was all about. But, hey, like they say, it’s share the pleasure - share the fun, share the memories, you know. . . Sometimes they just forget to mention any of the downside.

More whisky !!!!!! Enough of this frothy coffee. It just makes my eyes tight and my arms twitchy. . . Not a good thing if you’re carrying Hilda, I tell ya.

I am Hardblast, and I bring ya this message from my galactic center, for the peace and edification of all ya weak whimpering emotional wrecks.