An Anxiety Attack

Currently in the middle of an anxiety attack. I forgot my medication and this is a really bad one. Of course following close on the heels of a particularly bad day. How am I ever to get out this?

Deep even breaths. Chain smoking is probably not wise but I have nothing else to cling to at the moment. Shallow puffs with deep exhales and a non smoke inhale. Repeat until dizziness subsides.

Remember that giving up is not an option. Never. It is going to feel so good, great even, when this moment passes. Cling to that future memory. Build it up.

Hours from now, I am going to go out after work. I will finally have a glass of wine. Ice cold. My hands will not shake and I will not care if I am alone. Deep breaths.

My mind is racing through other ideal scenarios and a million and one ways I could have avoided this. Shift back to what is real, what has happened, and how to move past it in twenty four hours. Struggle to swallow a gulp of coffee past the knot in my throat. Normally I don’t fight my attacks, I just let myself feel them. But I have work in three hours and I still have yet to imagine getting ready. People will always ask what’s making you anxious, tell you deal with it, but with this there is no real trigger. It happens. It springs into existence following like a growing shadow behind every experience from the second I wake up. It builds and builds like a wall between me and everything else and god how I fight not to let it cave in on me.

I close my eyes and translate the feeling into a fantasy. Trapped alone in a crumbling city and I am screaming for help. I probably slept through any siren or warning. I will have to climb my out. Over jagged debris and mountains of sneaky steel rods. With every new experience it becomes a physical pain, tightness in my chest, a stabbing in the stomach, a numbness in the legs and electricity coursing  in the arms. Some part of me threatens to give up, it’s impossible, this is how you fail and this is all anyone will think of you. The person  who can’t get it together, the trouble maker drowning in the consequences of just being there, in the way always.

I imagine the building on my right topples over onto the pile I’m wriggling over. There’s no time for hesitation and i’m getting injured either way. Pain or death, pain or death. Fling my metaphorical self over the edge, hand pierced by a sharp piece of steel, dust working its way into my eyes and lungs, deaf in both ears. But alive.

Keep going. One foot in front of the other. Time is passing either way and things will happen with or without me. But damn it I would like to be there, to have some say, to let the memories imprint themselves on me. Keep going. Turn around and see all you’ve come through. Freedom, release might be right around the corner, it might not. But you don’t know until you try. Either way keep going because the goal has been set and the goal will be achieved.

Craft strength from within, weave magic into every moment, own this life. The one thing that always seems to quiet the storm is the thought that what if this is the worst it gets and it’s beautiful from here on out. What if? Deep breaths, sip coffee, and dust off because we still have a hell of a way to go.

Until next time,

Don’t be hungry for life. Be ravenous.


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