You feel like you're drowning,
Somewhere along fainting and dying,
Like you're trying to scream and nothing but air comes out,
You can't focus on anyone or everything,
Feels like you're crawling out of your skin,
Just trying to find a way out.

They might confuse it for simply zoning out,
And it might just seem like a simple "zone out" sometimes
but you know deep inside what it is,
Its your dearest friend: anxiety
Its beng rude and simply attacking you,
but please say to yourself "it will pass, it will pass"
And usually, it does

It’s late at night and
You feel it coming,
The nausea, the pain.
Like a knife being twisted in your stomach.

You curl into a ball, fearing what is to come.
There is no hope, it’s happening.
The shivers, the tears.
Immense fear.

You clench your teeth,
Telling yourself you aren’t crazy.
Everything will be okay.
Won’t it?

No.
It will never be okay.
The shaking continues, you throw the covers off.
You sweat, you freeze, you cry for it to stop.

Relief doesn’t come easy.
Your muscles tighten, and your
Thoughts are running at full speed.
You cry for help, but your calls are silent.

If only you could sit up,
Reach a hand out for your pills.
But do they really help?
You think they do.

You’ve lost full control.
Numb limbs can’t be told what to do.
A crying mind can’t be silenced,
And the attacks can’t ever be stopped.

I'll never forget the time
you laughed at me
when I told you I was
stupid for scratching at my face viciously,

leaving me with a scab
under the bags of my right eye.

I stood there crying as you laughed.

Who knew that would be
the start of my anxiety attacks.

It doesn't matter what anyone says, there's no right way.
Why? Because everyone is different, so they're attacks are different.
I once compared an anxiety to an exercise in theater arts.
And I was told that having an anxiety attack didn't feel that way.
Well, for me, it does, because that's how it feels for me.
You can't tell me that what I'm feeling is not an anxiety attack.
Just like I can't tell you that you're not having one.
Why? Well, because that would be me just saying you're wrong.
And how can I tell you that what you're feeling is wrong?
I don't know how you react to anxiety, so I can't.
That's why, I know that everyone has different types of anxiety.
You can have a full blown anxiety attack.
You can have a mini one, or it can be just physical and unnoticed.
There is no wrong way to have an anxiety attack.
Everyone experiences anxiety in their own ways, and it's real.
Just know that anxiety can happen in any way.
There's no right or wrong way to have one, they just happen.
Whether you can control them or not, they happen.
All you can do, is do your best to manage them and be okay.
That doesn't mean they'll go away, it doesn't.
This just means that you'll be able to live and cope with them.

He looked into my eyes, deeply, and seldomly blinking. His body was trembling, as if the very earth herself quaked within his veins. He was breathing heavily; the intake shallow, the output, shallower still. His skin was damp from the nerves, of course, not the heat. For it had barely begun. He reached for my hand and held it tightly and a part of me, for but a moment, enjoyed the fact that he needed me. He clung to me with his face pressed against my chest occasionally emitting a quiet moan. Eventually, I felt his wet warmth soak into my shirt. It hurt me, but I didn't make him move. I stayed still and held him until the panic attack was over, until the wet tears dried. This is how I defined my love; how I make love. Acceptance, compassion, guidance, and a friend.