The Trigger: I know the warning signs all too well now. My eyes start to dart around from object to object. My speech begins to get jumbled up as my thoughts start to race. I’m finding it hard to navigate without calculating my every movement. I have been through this time and time again, but I know I am still no match for what is about to come. I brace myself as all Hell beings to break lose.
The Body: I sit on the cold, hard ground. My arms are wrapped around my legs. My thighs are pushing into my chest. My face is resting on my knees. My eyes are leaking with tears. I am shaking uncontrollably. The adrenaline is pumping and the fight portion of the flight-or-fight response is hyperactivated. But, I can’t seem to locate any immediate danger. That is because, well, there is none… besides what’s going on in my mind.
The Mind: Everything is a blur. The images inside my head are moving too fast for me to even see them. It’s making me feel dizzy and lightheaded. I hear my internal monologue so loudly and the more I tell it to be quiet, the louder it yells. It reminds me of everything I have ever done wrong. Every time I have felt embarrassed, I can visualize the moment. Every regret I have ever had, I can feel the guilt. Every part of my past, every worry about my future, it all sits in my temples and forehead, pounding as if it desperately wants out. But it can’t get out. So the pounding feeling just worsens.
The Surroundings: Nothing around me feels real. I can’t seem to grasp anything of substance. I try to remember back to the grounding exercises I practiced in therapy. I need to find something that will reassure me that I am okay, but my senses are heightened and every noise or movement around me triggers a new wave of panic. I sit there, restless, thoughts racing, heart beating out of my chest for what seems like an eternity.
The Aftermath: Once my mind and body slowly reconnect, everything starts to settle down. My vision clears up and I am able to stand. I look around me, and things start to feel solid again. I look at myself in the mirror. I am astonished at how much my appearance has changed in those thirty minutes. My eyes are puffy from crying, my hair's a mess from the entanglement of my fingers, and my shoulders are drooping to the ground. I drink some water and think to myself about how every time I am hit, I am left utterly exhausted. My mind begins to apologize for what it did, and I let the noise fade into silence as I sleep the rest of the day off.
