panicattacks

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Love is all in vain The vulnerability Romanticized There is nothing romantic about this pain There is nothing i love about hurting
I have anxiety Not the classic shaking and hyperventilating anxiety The “I’m scared” The “Something bad is going to happen” The “I’m dying”
I stand in The Kitchen  It gets hard to breathe  I slide down the cabinets under the sink Tears slip out of my eyes  A million thoughts run though my head  I just want to Scream  My face goes dry 
When you're a child
(The words below may be triggering to anyone with depression and/or anxiety..)
Timing freezes, muscles tense, lungs start gasping for every breath The room starts spinning, the edges blur, hearts is running, running from death
I wake up and feel the fear, my stomach folds in a knot, another day is here, where my thoughts begin to clot. Panic disorder is a cruel master, even though its whispers are irrational,
As the night settles, it begins. Slyly, creeping deeper into my psyche Darkening, the rims of my thoughts. Slowly, swallowing my heart in captivity.   As the shadows crawl, the creaking floor boards
Times almost up.
"It’s fine, don’t worry about it." Are always the first words to come out, "It’s all in your head, you’ve got this." While wanting to spill your lunch on the floor. Hands shake and arms quake,
Momma told me nobody would understand me... I remember on day in the black light momma told me to old on tight...
Inside my head, I mean a little more. Inside my head, Personality is at war. I dream to be outgoing,  Both pretty and sweet Everyone wants to be my friend When I'm inside my head.
It's nine A.M.. You're awake, but you don't leave your bed because you have so much to do,
I wait and I falter, I'm going to suffocate, unable to breath, shaking, I cry silent tears but they make an impact, rushed away, well I tried to hold it at bay, but my conscience made me unable,
Red center inside
Can't. I just, I just... Can't.Now there's no one around to hear this rant,and even if there was, I wouldn't let them. 
Has there ever been a point in your life Where you say This is not me This is not who I am And this is not what I want to do
Maybe there’s no right or wrong way to feel about you;Only wrong and maybe rightOr just maybe and might, could beIf you know how to spin it that way,If you can play with your speechAnd teach your tongue to
Sometimes you watch yourself, understanding why you don't-care,Seeing several different roads, realizing they all lead to no-where,Walking down a flight of steps, hoping the devil won't-stare,
My father is a jokerand I love him with all my hearteven though his jokesaren't funny at all Screaming,crying,breathing heavily,these were never in the brocure that they gave me
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