With A Frog

The pounding of my head left me uneasy and not ready to face the world. It was easy to control the sound when there was a distraction or even an excuse. Approval was what I thirsted for, at this rate I am more likely to turn into a fly and live happily ever after with the frog. Approval is my drug. I am an addict with a limited supply. I pay extraordinary prices of the approval. How do I escape?