She doesn't know what to do anymore.
Her heart pounds around her until it feels like a stampede -
About to be trampled.
Help her. Help her.
She falls asleep every night after her anxiety fights its way through her medication -
And beats her until she bleeds.
But sleep is no rescue -
Because the devils in her dreams.
Demons, dying, monsters, heartbreak, torture, humiliation -
She can't escape the hell that invades sleep - and is still waiting for her when she wakes up.
An animal - poised to rip out her throat.
She wakes up already in the middle of a panic attack - praying only drowns her thoughts in thinking.
And every second of every moment of every day that she's stuck in her various prisons -
Drags on and digs into her like nails until she wishes she could just find the blood, find the wound -
So she could mend it.
No one else seems to be bothered like she is - no one else understands what it's like to live in panic.
Almost done with her 11th year but there's still always another. Another. Another.
Doesn't want to let her meds take over - because the second she falls asleep -
She'll have to wake up.
And waking up is the worst part.