This is the prelude to disaster. My heart is racing and my vision is blurred, it’s happening again. Anything will set me off, a name or a memory. An overwhelming belief that I am inadequate begins to suffocate me. I forget how to breathe like I haven’t done it my whole life. My brain says my oxygen has been cut off and I can almost feel my blood cease to flow through my body. And then come the shakes. I can’t seem to control this body. I call it “this body” because in this moment nothing feels familiar. It doesn’t feel like it’s mine and I can’t get it to stop.
My consciousness folds into itself. I am experiencing this from inside and from outside this body. I can’t scream because on top of all this I’m trying my best to seem fine. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” I recite this over and over again till the words lose meaning. Did they even have any meaning to begin with? Maybe it’s a phase, maybe it will pass. But logic fails me, I am falling apart while conscious of the fact that this could be permanent. This could be the last straw. Tomorrow I might not put myself back together again. But if I do, it’s like nothing ever happened. I tuck my anxiety into the land of the forgotten. Back to being “fine.”