I've had a few of them since temporarily quitting running, the most acute being yesterday afternoon.
Sat in my room for five hours, doing uni assignments, wondering what it all means and if I'm really moving anywhere and if I'll ever run again, and what if the injury doesn't heal and what if the world explodes, and...and...and... (insert nonsensical doubt).
It's rather ridiculous considering how inconsequential two weeks of me not running is, in the grad scheme of things.
One person, of six billion in the entire world, cannot do one thing, of hundreds, that he enjoys for two months, out of over 240 in his life time so far.
Unfortunately, that perspective rarely helps my mental state.
What does help (and has helped) is having the support and comfort of someone who truly cares.
And for that I'm incredibly grateful.