I’ve spent my whole life being invited everywhere while secretly plotting my escape route to the nearest quiet corner with a book. Then sarcoidosis showed up, and suddenly everyone has Opinions about what “support” should look like. Here’s the thing: I don’t need a crowd. I need calm, a steady hand to hold, and enough peace to breathe.
When Anxiety Takes the Director’s Chair: A Wrong-Number Call from the Police and the Story My Brain Ran With
A missed call should not feel like a medical emergency, yet somehow it does—especially when sarcoidosis and a nervous system already running hot decide to collaborate. One vague voicemail, one Google search, and my brain was off writing a screenplay I never auditioned for.
