Processing

The pounding in my head is almost like a metronome. It continues rhythmically over and over until the ringing in my ears sets the only tone I can hear. Voices around me fade and faces start to blur. It becomes a pixelated slow-motion show and I have become an observer. I no longer exist, but I'm watching from the sidelines as images that now are unclear frantically dart around. The chaos distorts my mind in an act of protection until my brain can process what is before me and start to catch up.

My heart rate slows, and I can feel each breath fill the lungs in my chest. In that moment it all comes into view.

So clear, so fast and loud. It is almost deafening to rejoin the mess before me.

Just as quickly as my world went slow and silent, it sped back up with the volume on full blast. I am then thrown into the action and moving right along with the pace. The fight or flight phase my sympathetic nervous system engaged has once again come and gone. Leaving me to fight my way through another tragedy that I get to call my job.