Hi everybody. My name is Jade and I'm a Democrat. Er, I need to be completely honest here, so let me amend that. I'm a liberal Democrat. A lifelong liberal Democrat. And my confession today is that I am nervous.

I've been following this election obsessively and complusively since 2004. Yeah, 2004. Just after the last Democratic "near victory." My obsessive compulsion went from being a chronic disorder to an acute, chronic disorder in January of 2007. That is when the rumors of a possible Obama bid started really swirling. I started watching for the telltale signs of domain names going AWOL, from hints by clued-in insiders who would be in the know.

Then came February. You know what happened then. I was ecstatic. I was hope-filled and hopeful. I was able to make it through the "coronation phase" of the then putative front-runner of the long Iowa summer. As the leaves began to turn that autumn, I'll admit, I was worried. We Democrats were blessed with not one or two great candidates, but eight.

Then came a debate in Philadelphia, and my concerns were assuaged. Mind you, I never lost faith. I never switched candidates. I never changed horses in mid-stream. Always a voracious reader, I found ways to read more: essays, and policy monographs, histories and legislative drafts. If I was sitting, I was reading -- even while pretending to watch TV. I tried reading on the treadmill, but fear of losing my front teeth in an unfortunate treadmill face plant ended that experiment. But a stationary bike was a safer choice.

I did not look forward to the holidays in 2007, but worried that New Hampshire would move their primary to December. And New Year's celebrations were curtailed by worrying about whether the caucuses in Iowa would be successful. On caucus night, I watched C-Span which had cameras stationed at my old high school, which hadn't changed as much in thirty-some years as I had.

There was a victory speech that brought me to tears.

There was the anger and disappointment of New Hampshire. And the elation and surprise of South Carolina and Nevada. And Super Tuesday. And the 10 in a row sweep. And then the reality of the numbers started to set in. It was hard to be patient. Impossible to wait for the game to play out. I was appalled that the ugliness that  came along, surprised at some of the sources, but always resolute. Ohio and Texas and Pennsylvania -- with that long, endless 6 weeks between -- tested my sanity.

The Rules and Bylaws committee was like riding the Coney Island Cyclone. You knew the ride would come to an end although you hate the stomach-churning ups and downs and twists and turns.

When the last of primary was over, and the victory and not quite concession speeches finished, I was still obsessing over what might possibly happen at the convention. Would the PUMAs poop on everything? A floor fight? A contested nomination? And reminiscent of the earliest days of Sesame Street, when the letter "E" brought you a kooky, crazy, consonant-filled "soap opera" that ended each episode with the tagline, "and what about Naomi?" I wondered, "and what about Bill and Hillary?"

I expected the low-down dirty shame that is the McCain campaign. But I have to admit I was dumbfounded (and continue to be) by the "Chilla from Wasilla," Sarah Palin. I'd like to ask Kay Bailey Hutchison or Bay Buchanan just what they hell they did to deserve Sarah Palin?

My latest anxiety attack started not because anything bad was happening. It was just on GP -- general principles. It was because requested my absentee ballot application. (Oh geez, had I somehow been mysteriously purged from the voter rolls? No. I got the application the day after they were available.) Then I had a limited modified freakout while waiting for the actual ballot to appear. It took me three days (!!!!!) to get the nerves under control to open the ballot and fill it out. I re-read it about seven times to make certain I knew exactly what to fill in where. I laid out a supply of black ballpoint, non-erasable pens. I cleared and cleaned off my desk and put down a protective layer of clean, white paper. No smugs allowed on this ballot.

I started filling in the ovals. Slowly. I hadn't written anything this slowly since I started tracing letters in my Big Chief tablet with my superthick, black pencil. When I finished the ballot, I was kind of hyperventilating. And I had a little panic: did I miss anything? Did I color outside the line on any of those ovals? Did I fill out the privacy flap correctly? I had to use a calculator to triple check that I had put enough postage on the envelope. I added extra just in case something happened, like a stamp falling off.

When I put the ballots in the mailbox (I was entrusted with my 79-year old mother's as well), I timed my arrival to the box so that the postal carrier was there. Into the box. And yes, I checked to make sure they fell all the way into box. When she got back into her mail truck to drive away, with ballots on board, I went back home.

About an hour later, I had a mini-panic attack: what if the carrier supported McCain and threw my ballots away? But wait ... how would she know I who I voted for? Unless she assumed.... but wait, she could be a fellow Barack supporter, too, so no worries.

I've been fighting a growing sense of anxiety, though. Everything is going well, but I can't get too far away from the cable news channels or the internet or my instant news alerts. I have to constantly check and double-check the polls, and fivethirtyeight.com and pollster.com and realclearpolitics.com and TPM and HuffPo, just in case something happens. Just in case.

Today, I was so freaked out, man, I resorted to watching reruns of the West Wing on Bravo and My Big Redneck Wedding on CMT. I started imagining the episode with Bristol Palin's Big Redneck Wedding. And matching West Wing characters to Barack's staff. (Wait, that's presumptuous... can't think too far ahead... oh dear hey Zeus... did I just jinx it? No... that's okay.)

So I might have to go to bed until Wednesday  morning. I might need some Zoloft, Ambien, Grey Goose cocktail to knock me out until it's over... 'cause I'm like totally freakin' out.

But in that good way... like the night before Christmas... when all through the house... everybody who wasn't Kung Fu fightin' was freakin' out!