An Inconvenient Guest.
Continuation of previous post.
This time on my hands doesn’t feel so good. I feel as though I was supposed to be doing something, but I can’t remember what. I feel disoriented and clumsy. I feel out of place. I’m filled with a sensation which feels familiar but I can’t recognize, like a face in the crowd, which is similar to feeling empty, but not quite. I browse through my memories and make an effort to observe and feel the inconvenient guest inside of me. I attempt different associations, but none fits. It’s too strong to be ignored, but very hard to engage with.
What do you do when you suspect your guest might be a serial-killer and he shows no intention to leave? Rather, the lumbering presence makes himself at home. He looks more at ease in your own house than yourself. He gets comfortable on your couch and lights up a cigarette. You don’t know what you are more upset for, because he just put his feet on the table or because he didn’t even take his shoes off, and before you know it your hair stinks like cigarette smoke and dammit, you had just taken a shower.
He reaches for the fire alarm. You try to stop him but he is too agile. You suddenly fail to recognize your surroundings. Is this your booth or the physical world? Is it both? Is it neither? You try to talk him into leaving the alarm alone, but he’s not listening and you start to perceive movement somewhere – the shivers down your spine. You beg him, but he laughs – the numbness of your limbs. You cry, he seems to feed on it – the increase of your heart rate.
Now the air feels thicker and you are sweating. Is there really a fire? What if it’s not a false alarm after all? It’s suffocating. Before you know it you are running with no direction, but all the doors are closed – you feel a weight fall on your chest. Suddenly your house becomes a prison and your tools turn into fear’s weapons. You have to fight it – and yet you are helpless. You are running for your life – and yet you are paralyzed by fear. You simply know you are about to die – and yet you are still alive. These last instants of your life feel endless, and you wish you were already dead.
There is nothing around you anymore, not your mind, not the physical world. You are in another dimension now, and you are on your own. There is fire and there is water, you are suffocating and you are drowning. Somebody finally came to your help, they are touching you, they are trying to pull you back on earth, but you can’t feel them. They seem so far away. They can’t really see what’s going on. You beg them to help you but you know they can’t. You are terrified, and while you slowly start to hear the voices of the people who came to your help, this fear won’t leave you.
You just met Death, it was traumatic, it was painful. You don’t recover easily from a shock like that. Will you ever heal at all? This will probably haunt you for the rest of your life. It will come back. It will come back when you least expect it. And it’s still there, you feel it’s close, hovering somewhere over your shoulders. How can you go on with your life when you can see the shadow of Death walking along your own? You wish she had taken you with her. You are doomed.
You just had a panic attack.