Whenever I find myself in a state of panic I tend to have one of those moments where I realize that no matter what can happen outside of me to distress and frighten, I'll still be here when it's over.

I'll survive. I'll continue.
It's nothing of an ending point.

Perhaps the notion of ending is just what I'm afraid of, just what holds me around the midsection just above my navel and pains me with relentless tension.

Perhaps.