A strong feeling of fear, foreboding, a feeling I was very well familiar with, took over me. I could never get used to this feeling of impending doom; it always felt like I was in grave danger. I knew very well what was to follow, and it was horrible to know that I wouldn’t be able to escape.
     Like always, I could feel it this time too, the slight unrest in the pit of my stomach, and it’s just growing, spreading. The growing unrest doesn’t allow me to focus on anything else, it demands to be thought over, so I could suffer knowing what it will result to. I couldn’t stop the wave of negative thoughts that kept flooding my mind, which kept jabbing at the unrest in me. They acted as a catalyst, and with every passing second I became more and more terrified. There was no way out, I had to go through it, it wouldn’t stop now, no matter what I did, and my racing heart and tight chest made it evident. My body started feeling like ten times its actual mass; I felt getting absorbed into myself. I got a choking sensation, my throat kept tightening. I could feel my severely pounding heart in every part of my body, at that moment they sounded more like gunshots to me. My chest was collapsing into itself and the pain was now excruciating. The pain felt like a barrage of pins and needles shooting at my chest. I was exhausted; I struggled for breath, like an average person would do after running a marathon. I started sweating; I was drenched in sweat despite being in an air conditioned room. It felt so hot, but it wasn’t hot. The heat came from my own skin, burning itself. I felt going round and round on a turntable inside a microwave.
     I started moving vigorously in my bed, I had to get up, but lifting my tight and heavy head seemed an impossible task. I finally got onto my feet where dizziness hit me. I was unsteady and everything felt unreal. I was in a dream like state; I could see every object in my room but they felt like hallucinations, everything was a fantasy to me. I started pacing around my room restlessly as negative thoughts kept shooting out of my head. They hit me like waves on rocks, and I started worrying about everything. I’m scared of everything. I started fearing every step I took, I feared my future; what if I’m a disappointment to my parents, to the world, to me. What if I’m not able to complete my education, find a job, and be anything but a burden on society, what if I live a completely useless life? And at moments like these there is no ‘what if’, I’m certain the worst case scenario will happen.
     I didn’t really want to die, but I wished I somehow ceased to exist. I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone; neither did I want to get burdened upon by people or my fears. I was glad I was sobbing and curled up on the floor alone with no one else in my room. I don’t like seeing people who love me upset and confused around me, neither do I like the judgmental eyes of people who didn’t love me. The latter would probably think I’m crazy or exaggerating my condition, truth be told, I think the same. I wished I was away, far from everything, because my panic attacks make me feel like I’m a waste of a human being and I don’t deserve to be with my kind.
     I could feel my panic subside, I heaved a sigh of relief, it was finally over. I crawled back into bed unsteadily and saw the time in my mobile phone, 2:41am. The panic attack lasted 13 minutes but it felt like 13 hours. I was glad it was over, at least for today, or now. I can never get used to it, it will always be horrible for me, and I hoped it wouldn’t strike again as I dozed off into sleep, because I will always be afraid of fear.