The other day I went to a local bookstore because an author was coming to read and sign his books. It was a spur of the moment decision, impulsive to get a ticket. The event was the following night. I was so nervous. Ten seconds after pushing the confirm button, my heart started pounding.
The next morning, I wasn’t sure if I was going to go at all. I took Cammie and we walked around the whole area — planning where to park, the walking route I’d take, etc (thank you PTSD). With the help of Ativan and going with a friend, I made it.
I listened to him read a passage. I listened to him tell the story behind the story. Even though I was continually scanning the room around me and keeping an eye on everyone around me, I found myself caught up in his story.
So I’m excited to read his book. He managed to keep my attention mostly in person so the book has to be good, right? I went out, at night and stayed for the full event. I got my book signed and even had a conversation with the author! It wasn’t hard, my tongue didn’t get stuck in the back of my throat.
It was such a relief! Progress. A step in the right direction. Things are starting to look up, I think. I don’t want to jinx it.
Social interaction is hard and exhausting, but I managed it. I’m proud of myself for it. On the way home, I rewarded myself with a cup of chocolate custard at a little drive thru place I happened upon on the way home. It was good too!
The best part of the night, though was coming home to Cammie. There is nothing like the unconditional love of a dog!