I miss it.

I miss the rush.
The soaring mind sitting down for a test
From all the blood pounding in my head
The sparks when I'd walk across a stage
To remind me to do my best
I miss the adrenaline.

But I don't miss it all.
The paralytic panic
The crippling fear
The devastating perfectionism
The compulsions
The growing thin against my will
I'm lucky to be free.

Yet, somehow I still have this desire
To simulate what I've lost
Copious cups of coffee
To make my heart pound
That little ball of jittery energy
Spinning in my gut
Spreading through to my fingertips
Then I'll be late to class
Driving recklessly
Running down stairs
Cutting it so close
That I have to feel nervous
That I have to feel something

So, what can I say?
I'm a creature of habit
And maybe it'll **** me