I just saw my grandmother check her blood pressure again. Third time today. She says a 130/80 is practically a pre-stroke event, even though her doctor cleared her. She’s seventy-five. I'm twenty-nine, and I get these panic attacks where I can't breathe, convinced I'm failing at everything — career, marriage, just... existing. Maybe it's genetic? This constant hypervigilance, this need to quantify potential disaster. It’s funny, right? Because I know objectively it's irrational. But I just… I can’t stop.