Time to Panic

What it is like living with anxiety.

The smell of pizza dough and fry oil permeated the long pizza shop. This was a smell I had come accustomed to smelling every day at three o’clock.  After my morning classes and a quick lunch, it was time for work. Mondays and Tuesdays were always slow; not that this “mom-and-pop-shop” got much business anyways, especially in the winter. Today was, as expected, no different. I finished the stocking, cleaning, organizing and helping our handful of regulars before finding myself a seat in the lobby. I watched the “OPEN” sign slowly light up, one red letter at a time, until the whole thing blinked in unison five times with the blue rectangle around it. After a while, my gaze drifted to the street sign at the corner outside our front window. It was illuminated more each time another letter lit up until it too, blinked blue. The lonely street corner held an eerie essence. It was only six now and the sun was already almost gone for the night.

I wondered what may have happened there. It looked like the setting of a horror film. I first imagined walking out to my car, being grabbed from behind and dragged away. Then I imagined someone walking in the store with a gun and making me beg for my life. It is odd to wonder what you might say in that situation. I then thought about someone sneaking in the back door, coming up and killing me before I even had the chance to beg. These thoughts were just a gentle sampling of what I knew my mind was capable of making me see. The last thought though, lingered with me a moment, until it was triggered.

You're safe. You're alive. Not now. Just stop. Don't think about it. Calm down.

I try my best to make it through the day without this fear consuming my focus. Sometimes I view the scenes with a neutral and emotionless reaction. This is ideal and usually when I'm thinking of new ways to torture the characters in my novel. Other times however, I’m relentlessly thrown into a state of panic at such thoughts. It's only when my own demise comes to mind that I'm consumed in waves of terror over the idea of just ending and no longer existing. When I will have no thought, no emotion, no breath. The concept is horrific and torturous to contemplate, but trying to block it out seems to bring it further into the forefront of my mind.

Like the website said, breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Just relax.

This only eased the shaking for a moment before the thoughts came flooding back; each wave crueler than the last. My heart raced and my eyes watered. I felt the panic swell and swell until I felt as if I was in immediate, fatal danger. I tried to breathe, and convince myself I had many years before that happened. Unfortunately for me though, my argumentative mind always had a counterargument waiting for anything I tried to tell myself. Even trying to distract myself with thoughts of my boyfriend failed to relieve the pain.

Exactly, just one more thing to lose when you go.