Staring at the keyboard with my mind in a swirl. I’m kind of super impressed with my body right now. It walked me safely home through the worst panic attack I’ve had since I’ve been in Wales. I found myself talking to my body with the enthusiasm usually reserved to encourage a hard-working seven year old. Good job, body! You’re doing so great! Look at you walking!
My thoughts are so funny during panic attacks, in a so funny you could hyperventilate and pass out kind of way. All I can remember now are snapshots: the sidewalk down the hill, the truck that startled me as it drove by, the cobble stones beneath my feet waiting to cross the road. I distinctly remember being halfway seriously worried about The Purge happening right then (I must have recently seen a trailer on Youtube)… Then I figured that it was good that even though my brain thought my body was, at various points, lying curled up in the bushes at the side of the path, sprinting like a crazed gazelle towards my apartment, or just standing and staring vacantly, my good body was slowly and steadily taking me home. I thought, yes, that’s good. Runners get chased. Walkers are saying “don’t even think about f#@%ing with me.” It’s no surprise that during panic attacks I’m primarily concerned with being perceived as an available target.
Usually getting some of it down helps me to get out the bad feelings, but it’s not working as well now… I spent too much time in a haze during the walk.* Well, it does make me feel a lot better to get words down, even if I feel I haven’t in any way described what it was like inside my mind. But it does definitely help me break out of it. I think I’m calm enough to sit with my mind now.
*I’m pretty sure I won’t publish this one, but in case I do, to all the members of my little starling cloud, I was safe and on the sidewalk at all times with plenty of passerby around, and I love you. 🙂