panic swarmed

Nothing is wrong, I am aware of that. I have no reason to fear for an inexplicable presence looming in the back of my mind, I have no reason to believe something will come from around the corner and eat me whole. Yet, I can still feel the metallic taste of my own blood as I press my teeth deep into my lips. I press a hand to my chest, weary of what I'll feel, somehow afraid there is no longer a pulse, and I try to listen. For a beat, two maybe, three if possible, or four if I let myself. I have this need to check if I'm still alive, if I'm fine, even though I'm absolutely certain that I am not and will never be.

I wonder why it's so scary to hear nice words as I panic. They take my breath away in the worst possible way and I am left trying to make something up for why I can't say anything back. I have a need to justify, to calm the other person down, someone who has been trying to do the same for me for an hour now. I can't explain to them why they shouldn't talk, why I need to scream at them but I'm instead holding myself tight to not be mean, to not hurt them more than I already am by just being a terrible mess of fear. I can't gather the words to tell them I need to leave, I need to open the door and run, so instead I just ask for my mom. A curious thing, as she has never been any solace when I enter a panicked state. But regardless, I cry for her, I cry for home, and I am so incredibly aware that what I'm saying must be hurting them, that I stop breathing for a moment. And that's when I break.

It was honestly waiting to happen, the collision I mean, between the niceties of forced comfort and my need to break myself into little pieces. I've been scratching my arms for as long as I've been crying, but now I'm doing it kneeling on the floor. I don't remember when I rolled from the bed but now I'm hear, hearing them ask me if I'm okay, as if I ever will be. I can sense their own panic, the nervousness at not knowing what to do with me, I can tell they're scared too, but I don't need that now. I know that it's selfish, but I need to think about myself for a second now. I need to breathe, I need to tell my head that a fucking lion is not chasing out back, I need to tell my nervous system to just...calm down. As soon as it can. The inside screaming (plus the cold of the ground, which I have not left yet) seems to help, and I can finally speak. I need ice, I need cold water, and I need you to give me space, I need to learn how to breathe again. They understand and give me what I need.

I raise a hand to my chest again, I want to see if I'm still here, if it is all over, but I don't think it ever will be. I know I'll be panicked and fearful for as long as I'm alive. I just hope it doesn't break who I am.