Here’s How A Panic Attack Goes

Photo by Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash

You’re fumbling around trying to open the box of the frozen Amy’s meal you want to eat. You’re not really hungry, but you think eating might help. You think maybe getting some food in your stomach will help you think straight.

You’re not sure how you got into your kitchen. Doesn’t matter. You can’t really remember what you did earlier anyway. You just know that you think it might be important that you eat. Very quickly.

You finally get the cardboard Amy’s meal box open. You think briefly that now you should put the tray in the microwave — I can probably skip poking a hole in the plastic covering, right? It’ll just pop on its own in there, right? — but you don’t actually get the tray into the microwave. You lay it on the kitchen counter and walk deliberately into your living room, hands on your hips, exhaling deeply. You’re home alone because your family is out of town.

You start to focus on relaxing for just a little bit before you eat. Just let me sit on the couch and breathe for a minute.

You sit on the couch and exhale deeply. Then you violently throw the recliner function and kick your legs out in front of you and lace your hands behind your head. You’re sprawled all the way out on your couch. You exhale deeply again.