I’m too scared to get up. I can’t do anything. I can’t move. I’m sitting at the floor of my bathroom. I’m kind of crying, but not, like, bawling. Just shedding tears.
I get up and go to my room. I’m too scared to take off my clothes. I do it anyway but it takes so long. I put on warm clothes even though everyone else is wearing shorts and a t shirt. I stand up and want to go out the door, but I can’t.
I step out the door into the hallways and see a dark red carpet stretched out along the floor and everything is dark and ***** and big.
I look around and realize everything reminds me of different things and I see many different pictures in my head. I can’t hear anything and my mind is dizzy. I stand there to let the movies pass. I walk downstairs and feel dizzy. I just feel dizzy. My brain feels ice cold and hot tingles at the base of my brain. Almost like the feeling of extreme embarrassment.
It’s hard to let my chest rise and fall. I’m not thinking like this because I’m sad, but I just think it would be easier if I didn’t breathe at all. Or if I just died right here.
I’m staring outside and my vision seems to jiggle. It’s hard to breathe. My heart is pounding in my head and throat.
I wrote this right after I had possibly the biggest panic attack I’ve ever had. Now that I read it a year later, I think it’s beautiful and hauntingly sad.
