The Panic Attack
It usually starts the same way… My heartbeat accelerates and thoughts run through my mind like rabid dogs.
The world around me comes to a halt, and all of a sudden, it feels as if I’m naked and exposed on a stage with an audience of heckling spectators. They somehow know my deepest fears and darkest secrets.
I cower at the edge of my bed in a fetal position, trembling hands clenching my chest — I can hear my heart beat — thump, thump, thump, thump. “Breath in, breath out” I say to myself, almost instinctively as if this act has been done before. I pace my breathing and focus on calming my thoughts — 10 minutes pass and there is no relief, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, 40 minutes.
It’s as if their sneering faces are embedded in my mind – Those who I’ve loved and lost. I can feel their eyes pierce into my soul and slice through my chest like poison-laced knives. I try and scream but no words escape my lips – Instead, my screams are masked by salty tears that stain my sheets. I can’t escape, so I wait until the show ends and exit the stage.
After what seems like an eternity, my eyelids become heavy and I fall into a deep familiar sleep. When I wake, there’s an uneasy calm that remains where the storm passed. Although the worst of it is over, the damage leaves another mark that hides in plain view — until the show starts again.
Her Soul Heals
Her Soul Heals 