It's not my job to really do much or resolve your 'attack'.
I just hate to break that news to you....while you might be in a fragile condition and thinking I might go and be extra-sympathetic toward your cause or your illusionary condition, I just don't bend that much.
I mean....if you wanted to introduce your imaginary friend to me....I probably won't even offer a 'hello' to Gus (the ghost).
If you were trying to show me your pet pony 'Marvin' and insist that Marvin was a Kentucky Derby type....I'm just not going to go along with your story, or Marvin's status.
If you were trying sell me on your controlled drug habit and how you self-medicate to resolve your schizophrenia? I'm sorry but I'm going to establish a six-foot zone between you and me, and won't allow you to ride in the car with me.
If you were trying to explain how you have your alcohol problem under control, but I see your shopping cart with a dozen bottles of cheap booze? I won't believe your under-control BS.
If you went to some 64 gender talk and wanted me to engage.....I'm sorry, I just don't care to hear the talk, the argument that ensues, or that this is science in some way.
If you go and admit to some mental condition but reassure me that you don't need treatment? I'm sorry....the minute you confess zero treatment, I'm not your friend.
My bundle of sympathy at age 64? It's probably the least amount I've ever had. It's possible for me to realize bad service....that getting the 'boss' involved' won't help, and I'll just walk out.
Yeah, I'm loaded with bits of skepticism and its affecting my view of the 'big world'. It won't improve. Skepticism-rehab? Non-existent.
So pardon my lack of understanding over your panic or anxiety situation. I'm going to tell you to get your crap together and send you out into a fairly cruel world.