The exercise:
Write about: panic.
Mondays are so long. I need to get this written before I fall asleep on the couch yet again.
Mine:
Air too thick to breathe, blood cells too loud and too heavy for the veins struggling to contain them. An invisible hand around my throat, gradually tightening. No escape, no end in sight. I am drowning on my living room floor with not a drop of water to be found.
It's not real. None of this is real. This fear cannot kill me. I have to remember that. Cling to that thought. Do not let go, no matter what.
Another wave, this one more suffocating than the last. Rational thoughts twist and tumble, collide like seeds trapped inside a maraca. Panic takes hold once more. Run. Doesn't matter where, just run. Whatever direction I'm facing, run.
No. Calm down. Calm is the mortal enemy of panic. Breathe. Don't give up. Fight like your life is on the line.
Because it is.
Hold on, here it comes again...