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lenore Jul 2019
my insides may curl up like sails in a storm
but my heart is the flag, unafraid to be torn.
Richard Haas Jul 2019
I could never put a name to this feeling. This feeling of a rush has been so normal. But normal things one day can too, become unhealthy.

The imbalance in which you flow, has incorrectly been funneled into your brain. Now that I can name you, I shall name you Sero. Sero, is in us all but why must some be involved with such a heavy flow. This flood would overcompensate our feelings and make us, unreal or bizarre. Derealization has overcome you now, there is no escape - or so you think. Detached, shocked and horrified of this impending doom, has left you utterly mesmerized by the fact that there is so much you are unable to do now. An escape has to be planned accordingly, although you are not involved with writing out your day's work, your brain has all of the "happy locations" logged and places of which you have not experienced yet are never aloud to be unlocked. You feel abnormal, your heart is somehow in your stomach running on a dirt road. You are sweating like condensation from a water bottle on a summers day. Your body's cold, just like that water bottle. You're just as flexible and hold composure on the outside, but as the heavy flow of Sero is now introduced into the brain, the cap fly's off and you don't feel that surrounding holding you back anymore. Gravity has shifted and you are floating in fear. But you will never drown, you will always make it out alive.
December 3rd, 2018 was my last horrific panic attack. I will never forget that day. To many people it was a simple normal day, but to me it was moment that lead to this attack, and the moment I felt it coming I was driving... So clearly not good (That is of course, you know the feelings of this sudden 'Rush'). Got emitted to the E.R. and that said panic attack lasted for 2 hours. Once I finally came to my senses, it was over and I was just ready to sleep.
1,2,3,4

Keep counting

It’s heavy, and the air is hot

1,2,3,4

Keep counting

I hear the screaming, and all the lies.

Come on girl, keep counting

1,2,3,4 snap snap

My hands are trembling I can’t quite see

But 1,2,3,4. Keep counting. You’ve gotta breathe.

1
2
3
4

That’s how many breaths you need
Count to 4. Count to 4.
Just. Keep. Counting.
This is how I handle my panic attacks. Counting to 4, and snapping on cue. Focuses the mind to some thing else. Sooner or later I’m not panicking. I’m counting, and I can breathe again.
Airan Jul 2019
Don't panic, you will be okay,
with time you'll get a brighter day.
The sun will shine on Earth, and you
will show the world what you can do.

Don't be afraid, you'll be okay,
you'll search and find a better way.
It will take time, it might take years,
but you will win over your fears.

Trust me, you are not alone,
and you are stronger than you know.
Listen now to what I say:
You'll cry but you will be okay.
All the poems I post now are really old, and I've posted them on my instagram account before. But I like this one quite a lot!
CautiousRain Jun 2019
Wasteful breaths,
a hyperventilating accordion of pressure,
my heart compressed
like extra pixels in an image, a squeezed lemon,
but unfortunately no lemonade,
only hazy vision.

I can’t move.
Moving only makes me
step closer to death,
or so I imagine,
as my heart spikes thorns inward,
every dagger ever stuck in my back
shoots down my throat
and returns to the heart it aimed for
originally.

I’m so broken.

Clammy palms, cracked nails,
dilated eyes all a mess,
and the shakes,
oh, the shakes,
an earthquake from within
brings much devastation again,
and just like every weak building does,
I collapse to my knees,
barely gripping onto the counter,
praying that if God pities me enough,
he’d let me go.
theme was describe a panic attack
Justin Aptaker Jun 2019
i insist on suffocating slowly
still
    i refuse to die
    imposing my will to weakness
    avoiding applying the "why"

implications are closing in, oppressive
my mind is open, fluid
suggestive
interposing meaning and form with
    the spoken and written letter

the light source filtered through all this
            wreckage
  the squeaking moving in, oppressive
  regressive, the way my vantage remains
a disjointed unit-whole

you persist, and i suffocate quickly
you ask so nicely for me to die
deposing my God ****** will to power
why do i seem to avoid the "apply"?

THE SYMBOL ON MY HAND IS BURNING

    into the flesh, and back out from inside
illuminates Prison, a chasm, a prism
dividing a spectrum of impossible light

we wholly refract the soma, the psyche
The Panic transforms into beauty inane
compulsion, obsession, redemption, addiction
we know we're alive    
                      we perpetuate pain
Written by Justin Aptaker, 2006
Lydia Jun 2019
the other night I thought I was dying
my arm started to hurt and it felt like my veins were trying to burst through my skin
panic overflowed immediately
and I couldn’t breathe
it hurt so bad I thought surely this was it
it would almost make sense that I would go
from my own feelings killing me
first girl whose own feelings literally killed her
that’s how it felt
like my own thoughts could literally stop my heart
unintentional self sabotage
an ice pack and breathing eventually worked
and I fell asleep so hard I had dreams that I could barely remember the next morning
Lydia Jun 2019
Have you ever tried to talk yourself out of a panic attack?
It’s not easy
It doesn’t really work
your heart still races
and your blood still feels like
it’s flying through your veins
your vision still blurs
and your thoughts don’t make sense
your breath comes in short waves
before you know it
you’re already in it
so just try to lay back and feel it
beth haze Jun 2019
I don't even know why my eyes feel heavy anymore.
Is it the sleepless pocking trough or the tears that I'm yet to blink away, burning behind my eyes while reminding me of the fact that I'm not over it.
Maybe it's a combination of both, maybe I'm just tired of not being over it.
Perhaps, I'm just tired of my mind wandering back to you every chance it has, finding excuses to turn every thought back to us, yelling louder and louder when I try to block it out.
And I know to talk it out it's useless, 'cause
it's hard to talk to someone who is not listening but
a part of me continues to have hope that one day,
you'll start paying attention again.
Before it's too late.
- yelling thoughts into a void.
Elise Jackson Jun 2019
many different sounds can cause someone to go mad
i didn't think that a few seconds of eye contact could feel like hours
or if it would make my bones crumble

i used to hate the silence
i used to have to distract myself at every waking moment
just so the panic wouldn't settle in

but now it's the ticking clock
the loud. spinning fan
the noises that sound murderous

and vain
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