The feeling of my chest folding in on itself is familiar in a haunting way. It clenches the way that muscles flinch when something comes to close to your face—except it stays that way. There’s no immediate relief after you don’t get hit. There’s no sigh to release the tension.
The creature sneaks its way down the center of my body, spreading through my stomach. The roots seem to grab hold of whatever organ they can, squeezing as if I’m trying to rip it from my body. But the only violent one here is it. If you tug, it clings harder. Like Devil’s Snare, the more you fight, the worse it gets. Continue reading “How to write yourself down from a panic attack in six paragraphs”