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Writer's pictureBjørk O'Hara

Panic

staring at nothing, tears begin in my eyes.

the longer I sit, and stare, the more I try to find my tears.

no luck, as tears stream down my face, whilst I sit at the dinner table with the family.

so, I take my leave, and excuse myself from the table, to head toward the living room.

My breath is shallow, I am breathing deeply in and out, and I start to hyperventilate.

I sit down, as I don't make it upstairs, and collapse into the first chair I see.

gripping the arms on the chair, I take a breath in and let it slowly draw out.

I try to keep my breath steady, but it quickens, and soon enough, I can't control it, as I gasp for breath.

I am sitting there, shaking and breathing intensely, whilst I listen to my family talk in the other room. them not noticing that I've left, or that I am having a panic attack.

I don't want to disturb them, so I try to hold it together. closing my eyes, I take a hold of the armchair and take a deep breath in and out, and gradually my breath softens and becomes more controlled. I wipe away my tears, get myself together, and get up. placing my shoes on my feet, my coat around my body, and my bag on my shoulder. I slowly walk into the kitchen and fake a smile. I think, If I fake a smile, no one will ask. No one will care. I almost want them to ask, but there don't. Chris, he gets in the car to give me a lift into the city. and when I think, that no one will ask, I almost give up, He asks me if I am ok. I say, I am ok, but I don't think he believes me. and thank god, as I break down. and tell him. I do feel better now, that I have written about this panic attack, I am not even sure what the trigger was. But it is good to talk about this one. it felt good. so thank you for listening in. It helps me.

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