Anxious

An anxiety attack feels like when you are in a bar waiting for your first date. Teetering on the bar stool, thinking ridiculous thoughts: what if I pee, right now? What if I blurt out something inappropriate? Like: I might pee, right now?

Your therapist, whom you hired just for your anxiety attacks alone, told you something you will never forget; perhaps it was her only parting wisdom.

Those inappropriate thoughts? Peeing all over the floor? That’s something you would never do.

An anxiety attack feels like being at work and taking an Uber to Urgent Care because you have lost the ability to breathe while at your desk. Because the door seems like it is a million miles away, something you can’t get to, reach for, even when a client comes in. Because you are in so much emotional pain that your mind becomes a cloud of worry. You think you’re dying. The doctor gives you an EKG and tells you to calm down.

Calm down.

An anxiety attacks feels like when you are driving your ex-boyfriend to his step mother’s house. When pushing the brakes becomes an impossible feat, because suddenly, you can’t feel your feet. It feels like racing, uncontrollable thoughts. And it sounds like him telling you: you just don’t eat enough.

Eat something.

An anxiety attacks feels like shoving homemade muffin after muffin down your throat at his step mother’s house, because maybe he’s right.

An anxiety attack is not being able to trust yourself.

An anxiety attack is an attack on your own conscience.

An anxiety attack is a brutal, unfortunate way your brain is telling you:

Panic.