I sit here, writing coming down from my most recent panic attack. Trying to type through my tears because I feel so lost and scared. Panic attacks drain me. To the point where no one understands how low I feel. People will say they say they have them "sometimes too," but you're convinced they've never felt as alone as you have on the damned bathroom floor.
They are not something to be joked about. Not something you can say in passing or through a Facebook comment. When someone casually jokes they are "panicking" or they use that term instead of them saying they are only "freaking out," which is more than likely the case.
Panic attacks aren't something that just happens to you when one thing goes awry — they happen consistently. They are when you're crying on your bathroom floor in the dark for fifteen minutes, thinking your heart is going to beat out of your chest.
It's your dogs pacing circles around you because they don't know how to comfort your tears.
It's your family asking you why you keep crying for hours afterward because the worst part is over. But it isn't.
Feeling so desperately alone and scared over something that would only make the next guy blink.
They are struggling to breathe because you can't grasp the air hard enough.
They are 3 pills into your anxiety medication, hoping that can bring some relief to blood pressure that keeps raising.They are sitting alone by yourself, while no one wants to help you.
A panic attack makes you feel incredibly alone in your own body. Bringing in self-awareness that only you can attend to.
You can feel the hum of your heart as the beats start to level out and your breathing becomes regular.
But you cannot forget the fact the air left your system because of something you had no control over, so why did you worry in the first place?
These thoughts rustle around in my mind as I try to comprehend why I feel the way I do. The world goes on. It's not the end of the world. Just get through the next 10 seconds.
It's all you can tell yourself.