Beverly Pills And Other Related Traumas

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

Flickr / Guian BolisayFlickr / Guian Bolisay

One week ago today, I died.

Okay, not really, unless I’m ripping off the narration from American Beauty. Which I’m not. I am no Kevin Spacey.

But one week ago today I felt like I died; and the feeling was a familiar one. It begins, ironically, with the unnerving sensation of unfamiliarity. You may be in your bedroom, or kitchen, or in your boyfriend’s arms – but in an instant, you’re a stranger to your surroundings, your mind draws all blanks, your throat closes, your tongue burns, your eyes twitch, your skull implodes, your consciousness departs this dimension and your greatest fears become reality.

You know it’s not real, but it’s real. This time it’s real, you swear. It’s real.

It’s real.

This time it’s real.


This is what a panic attack feels like.

It’s easy to tell when they’re coming: at first, you…

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