Very good to hear from you, moondaughter. It's not really a "well off everything" experience. That is to say--I don't experience anything as a "replacement" for the "fight or flight" response. I simply don't experience the normal reaction we are all familiar with when we "should" feel physically or sometimes emotionally threatened. I agree with you about it being a bit "scary". I've already proven to myself that my mind isn't sharp enough to readily discern exactly "when" I should be afraid, and therefore ready to fight or flee, without the affect of adrenaline.
One evening this past summer, as I drove home into the apartment complex, I noticed about 10 or 12 young men (high-school age; a couple were a bit older) gathered on the street tossing basketballs around right in front of my apartment where I had just parked my car. I've lived here for 5 years, and I've never seen a rowdy group of kids like this before. To begin with, there are no basketball courts anywhere on the complex. So, they were essentially loitering. My first thought when I saw them was--what if one of them accidentally hits a car with a basketball? Some of my neighbors have really nice $40k-$60k cars/trucks that I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate having dinged with a basketball. It may not dent a bumper or even crack a windshield, but it could easily enough dent a panel or crack the clear-coat or paint. I know I certainly wouldn't want the custom paint job on my little 2012 Toyota to get scuffed up. I get out of the car, I'm walking to the front door, and sure enough, BAM!--a basketball hits the door of my car.
I didn't yell at them or go into a "rage" or anything, but I did turn around and walk over toward the biggest one standing there and said--"If I see one more basketball hit a car out here I'm calling the police." The guy was completely shocked, and didn't even have a reply. One of the other young men seemed to take offense, though. He smarted-off and said something like--"oh, don't worry about him, he's drunk", or words to that effect. Now, I'm ****** off. One thing I can't tolerate is younger men who have no respect for Veterans. My car has a Disabled American Veteran license plate on it, and a bright red and gold USMC decal on the rear bumper, and I'm sure all of them could read. In fact, I kind of got the impression that some of them weren't too happy with they guy who smarted off to me. His little remark was just enough to **** me off, and should have been just enough to trigger the "fight or flight" response in me after I responded by walking towards them in a belligerent "drill-instructor" manner, informing each of them that I was a United States Marine who had dealt with and put down a lot more trouble than any of them could dish out here today, and that I would be very willing to show them if anyone of them wanted to step over towards me instead walking away. Of course, my exact words were much more "colorful". I'm giving you the PG version, here. Fortunately, they all kept on walking, because I move in slow-motion and I'm totally weak. Any one of them could have kicked my butt.
It's not that I "decline" to take agonist meds. I've actually already taken all of them. They ran their course, did their thing, little value. I think the last one I took was Requip. When I finally titrated up to a therapeutic dose, I actually did start to see some improvement in symptoms. Trouble was, my ankles became so swollen that I couldn't walk.
Yes, I VERY much have to watch myself these days, so that I don't put myself in danger. My body is certainly not going to let me know.