Panic

My heart is racing,
my throat is closing,
or so it seems.

My hand reaches for my neck,
as if holding it
might help me breathe.

As air escapes my lungs,
I feel myself suffocating,
suffocating on words
that have long been lodged
deep within my throat:

“You’ll never be good enough.”
“You’re too fat.”
“You’re always too much.”

These words echo through my mind,
spinning until I’m dizzy—
so dizzy it feels like falling,
falling through an endless tunnel.

I start to panic.
When I panic, I start to think fast,
and suddenly
I'm suffocating.

As I suffocate,
I beg for peace,
for stillness,
for breath.

Then, for a fleeting moment,
I hear a soft voice.
With that voice come memories.
With those memories comes warmth.
With that warmth—
a blanket of calmness.

And then,
but only then,
does the panic fade.
Until we meet again.