playland ovenbird I was worried about my daughter going to the amusement park. I was worried she would have panic attacks on the rides. I was worried that the press of gravitational forces and the sensation of falling would cause her terror and then she would be stuck, strapped into a contraption meant to shake your nervous system harder than a dog surprised to find the rabbit it was chasing between its jaws. I was so worried. And it turns out that I was projecting. For all our similarities, my daughter is not a carbon copy of me. And while my own nervous system would never tolerate a rollercoaster these days, my nearly ten year old child had more stamina for thrill seeking than her older brother and his friend. When the boys were worn out, suffering with headaches and sore stomachs from being tossed around all day, she was still asking for another ride. She went on every ride in the park and declared that she loved it. I thought, maybe she can have a better life than I’ve had. Maybe she will gain the skills necessary to befriend the anxiety that has disabled me in so many ways. I want to give her that possibility. I want her to be free in ways I never was. 260704 what's it to you? who go blather from