Mindy, my sweet girl, said "Mom, I found your theme song."  I laughed, of course, imagining all of the crazy directions that theme could go.  But Mindy surprised me.  She knows me better than I thought.  
A few months before I had my first Post Traumatic Stress episode, I was taking a class at the U. of U. called The Psychology of Childrens' Literature.  It was a fantastic class that taught me how books can teach children important life lessons in a subtle, gentle way.  On the first day of class, the professor asked us all to say which animal represented out personality.  Some people said magnificent animals, like tigers, eagles, lions, and bears.  Others said dogs or cats.  I said that I was a bunny rabbit.  In my thinking, it was a perfect choice.  I was soft, round and fluffy.  I did not hunt other animals, and I was a peaceful creature.  (One would think, as much as I love horses, that I would have chosen to be a horse.)
When the professor heard my answer, he laughed and said, "Awww, timid little creature.  Watch out for those predators!"
A couple of months after that I saw a face that triggered memories blocked way back in my brain, and that's when my life fell apart.  
So when Mindy gave me my theme song, I wondered, how did she know?  The gentleness of Matt Duke's song is my favorite kind of music, and the lyrics have fit my life at one time or another.  I'd like to think that this shy rabbit has more courage now than when my strange journey called agoraphobia began.
Don't forget to push pause on the music playing (on the right column).
Rabbit
by Matt Duke
Every sentiment hangs around 
No longer than a minute or two 
I find I keep falling for love 
But I can't seem to follow it through 
So run, little rabbit, run 
I leave one good hand on the wheel 
Been counting mile markers for days 
Everything falls further behind 
I can disappear in several ways 
So run, little rabbit, run 
Sleep through the morning 
Don't wake me up 
Sleep through the morning 
One little man to one mighty sun 
Try to break away from yourself 
Throw your broken bones in a heap 
All the blood and guts are exposed 
Your spirit has been begging to leave
Thanks, Mindy.  I love you.
 
 
