Story time.<p>In college, I was called on at the very last minute to host a roundtable sports discussion on the university radio station. Likely listening audience: a million or so. I was freaked out, knew not a thing about sports, and just as we were getting started I asked if we should kick off talking about football - only to be  told it was the off-season. I then tried introducing the panel, but blanked on one of their last names. He was my roommate. This is how I felt: <a href="https:&#x2F;&#x2F;www.youtube.com&#x2F;watch?v=W45DRy7M1no" rel="nofollow">https:&#x2F;&#x2F;www.youtube.com&#x2F;watch?v=W45DRy7M1no</a><p>In my 20s I had a phone interview for a fellowship that would send me to South America, teach me a foreign language, and put me in the company of my idols for two years. During the call, I was struck with such debilitating anxiety I went totally off the rails. It went a lot like this: <a href="https:&#x2F;&#x2F;www.youtube.com&#x2F;watch?v=u0PUrNwvvBk" rel="nofollow">https:&#x2F;&#x2F;www.youtube.com&#x2F;watch?v=u0PUrNwvvBk</a><p>I spent 10+ years taking meds for anxiety. And I was super lucky that they worked a charm. I&#x27;m off meds, and in very good shape, but I know better than to write anxiety off. I&#x27;m seasoned at dealing with it, but expect to deal with it for the rest of my life.