This is a raw collection of emotions and grief and the fallout from a specifically severe panic attack.
Shortness of breath
Heart racing, pounding like it is going to jump out of your chest
Nausea churning in your guts
Shaking, uncontrollable shaking
The overwhelming desire to run away, disappear…die
I have always suffered with anxiety.
From a very young age it controlled my life.
I learned, eventually, how to control it.
I had to, otherwise I wouldn’t have the life I do today.
I have strategies and processes to help me.
They became second nature to me and I began to feel confident, self assured.
And then Tuesday happened.
I haven’t had a panic attack in a really long time.
This one was the worst I have ever experienced.
Two days later and I still feel the effects of it.
And at 4am on the third day I feel like a old pair of jeans that has been washed too many times; worn, thin, faded and frayed around the edges.
I feel like I am only barely holding it together and am liable to come apart at the slightest provocation.
That panic attack scared me.
Really scared me.
It felt like something in my brain snapped.
Yes, I have been under a lot of pressure lately.
Yes I am grieving
And yes there is a lot if stress in my life.
Logically I know that these things contributed to my attack
But anxiety is not logical and this time I had no defense.
Using logic has been my biggest weapon in the past.
I have taught myself to catch the dark wayward thoughts that would seek to terrorize me.
To hold them up in the light and bombard them with logic.
That is how I have defeated them in the past.
That is how I have kept them in check.
But this time I couldn’t.
This time all those dark thoughts broke out of the prison where I had them contained.
They attacked me with a coordinated assault.
My defenses were down.
I was at their mercy.
They were ravenous and brutal.
Seeking to destroy me with a determined hatred and viciousness.
I crumpled like a wet paper bag, defeated.
I feel smashed upon the rocks.
Tossed by the tide like so much flotsam and jetsam.
And I feel guilty for it.
Everyone in my family are grieving.
We have lost someone precious to us.
I feel guilty that I am falling apart.
I feel guilty that I am adding to the stress.
And it makes my anxiety worse.
I am stretched thin
My skin is like a fine piece of porcelain
A fragile barrier to contain the raging storm within me.
When will it end?
When will the pain lessen?
When will the tears cease?
I have cried myself dry
I am parched.
I am empty.
So very very empty.
The future unfolds before me
Full of uncertainty and dark places.
Every shadow hides a threat
Waiting patiently for me to pass by
Barbs come at me from unexpected places
Stealing my breath and reducing me to ashes
I am defenseless and weak
All of my learned lesson are fled from me
My thoughts are scattered and uncontrolled
Their prison is broken wide
They rampage unchecked through my damaged mind
I feel the seams of my fragile life unraveling
Falling away, blown away in the wind
And I am undone.