A Portrait of Agoraphobia

If you just look at her you would probably think everything was fine. If you didn't know any better you would just think she was ok, if you didn't know her. But if you looked closer you might see a different picture. Her eyes dart around the room in a nervous rush, not really looking at anything. Her heart beats its fast, unsteady rhythm. Her palms are moist and she rubs them on the back of her pants in a nervous attempt to dry them. She puffs her cheeks out and lets the air out slowly through clenched lips in an attempt to calm herself down some. She goes frequently to the window, searching for something. She tries to calm herself down by rationalizing and telling herself not to worry. She walks back to the couch. "I am not going, " she says out loud to no one. She smiles a little, happy to have come to that decision. Her hands start to shake a little when she hears the phone ring. Her chest starts to tighten as her mind reels over who it might be. She hoped it wasn't another invitation, she didn't think she could take it. She picked the receiver up with a lump in her throat.

"Hey, I will be there in fifteen minutes."

"No, I am not going... I changed my mind."

"I thought you needed to go to the doctor today."

"Yeah, but I just don't feel good today. Maybe tomorrow."

"OK."

Relief floods over her as she hangs up the phone. At least today she wouldn't have to leave. She shuts her eyes tight to the insanity of it. Fear is her constant companion