It’s different everytime

It starts when I notice something. A weird sensation in my chest, the bridge of my nose, the lower walls of my tongue, my tonsils, my legs, my earring holes. Any place, any of part of my body acting weird can start it.

It just takes for me to notice. And sometimes, I start thinking about it more, and my body, for once, starts listening to me like my thoughts were dripping gold and it had to revere me as their God. My body starts bending to my own thoughts, obsessively becoming my obsessions, as I add details, symptoms, worries.

Sometimes it doesn’t go further than that. Other times, I feel my arm leaving my chest, particle by particle, atom by atom. My eyes start working too hard, I see shapes from other dimensions, black, white, strange colors mixing together until I faint, or I am skilled enough to take an emergency xanax.

It’s different everytime. That’s what fucks it up. If it was clearly recognisable, if the symptons couldn’t sometimes be as random as to make my hypocondriac self thinking I had developed a cancer overnight, maybe it’d be easier.

Can’t help but wonder if I even have those symptoms, if anything my body feels is even real or valid. I can’t trust anybody. Not even my body’s way of telling me I’m in danger. I’m stuck in a situation in which I’m scared of everything, but I can’t take my fears seriously, as they very well be for nothing.

The actions that save me right now, may very well kill me one day.

Last year I had a five days long panic attack. It never really stopped.

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