I was taking a shower today when the air became heavy.
“Panic Attack,” said my brain.
The water droplets from the shower head began to feel overwhelming. I started to drown.
“It’s happening,” said my brain. “Get out!”
I reached for the faucet, and as I twisted the nob to “off”, the waterfall was still engulfing me.
“Breathe,” commanded my brain.
I couldn’t. I desperately gasped for air as I climbed out of the tub.
I sat, my head spinning, my stomach overcome with nausea.
“Breathe!” yelled my brain.”Follow my directions!”
My body could not comprehend the messages. I somehow ended up on my bed. The room was spinning. I was sweating, my heart was overworking.
I clenched my fists and attempted deep breaths; I was waiting for the suffocation to end. My brain was gone, it was lost in the medley of complications. Th dizziness was consuming me.
Instead of my brain, it was my body that was frantically yelling, “Panic Attack!”
My numb hands, the beads of sweat occupying my forehead, the suffocation, the fear.
It was gone as soon as it started. Those ten minutes were spent in agony.
“Panic Attack,” my brain whispered.