Anxiety is sitting in the car outside of the meeting you were supposed to be at twenty minutes ago. Sitting, covered in my own sick, air not making it's way into my lungs, body shaking so bad, heart pounding so fast it feels like it stopped.
Is this a panic attack or heart attack? You have panic attacks all the time, you know what they feel like. This feels different but it doesn't really it feels worse but it's not really.
You have to pee, but you only have to pee because you're scared. If you leave your car you'll be even more scared. You can't leave the car and pee your pants again, the second time this week. Plus you're covered in throw up.
You're sitting alone in the parking lot but the people are there. Some of them walk past and some are just staring. Some reach through the car window and you feel their cold chill as they grab you. Some try to speak, words telling you how pathetic you are. They seem to terrifying to be fake, the brain isn't cruel enough to create such atrocities.
But you know they're fake because when you turn the radio up and focus on singing the lyrics they fade away into tiny wisps of smoke.
The radio. You turn the radio up louder, but not to loud. You don't want anyone to know you're here, you don't want to know your here. Every gag turns into a word, a mumbled and slurred word.
Perhaps you're drunk. It's all in you're head. Instead of being trapped in a parking lot with no way to run you're back in your bed. You still have no where to run but now the only people who will see you are the shadows in you're head.
Your phones ringing. The shrill tone is to much and you're head begins to pound as hard as your heart is. You want to answer it but you're voice won't work. You know this, you've tried it before.
Headlights pass by. The light isn't in your eye sight but yet it blinds you. Sensory overload is kicking in. You can hear it. Every little sound. You can feel it, every little shift.
You didn't know there was a fly in the car until now. It's buzzing reminds you of a chainsaw. A chainsaw reminds you a killer. A bloody chainsaw is flying around your car. You still can't see it, can't find it. Perhaps this is an illusion to.
The phone rings again. The sound send goosebumps through you're body. You check it and see a message. From you're friend. She's encouraging you, she knew how anxious you were. But she doesn't know that her encouragement is too late now, that her words on falling on a deaf ears and blind eyes.
You think about the medicine you have at home. It was supposed to help you. But it hasn't. It's been seven days since an attack this big so it has to have helped a little but it's not helping, that means it's not working.
No focus. Text her back. Tell her you need help. Stop shaking, stop bouncing you're leg ignore the shadow people outside the door, ignore the bloody chainsaw buzzing around your head. Text her back, get help.
It's going well. You're fingers shake as you type and with a deep breath you press send.
Author's Note :
Good afternoon ebwiwan! Thanks for those people who supported me here. Keep safe always. Lovelots. ❤
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...and you will also help the author collect more tips.
Was this your experience, ms. caroline?