Behind that door.
Whenever I walk out that door. I feel free.
I am not in a cage but I always feel less air around me to breathe,
my heart starts pounding and suddenly I’m out of breath.
People say it’s the symptoms of a panic attack but I had never seen one before.
Just like I never knew if sending something to someone was right or wrong.
When I had my first,
Break down, it just took a hit on my smallest toenail and I fell apart.
That was the first time I saw myself in the mirror, out of breath, with all that sweat, and not a single person beside me to hold my hand.
Just behind the door, there was a room full of people whom I shared blood with but I was so afraid of my being and tears that I couldn’t even extend my hand.
I wasn’t freed that day. I didn’t know that I had several episodes left.
I didn’t know who to send a video of my shaking hands and red veins in my eyes so instead I put on my earphones and blasted my eardrums with a journey’s song that I always play, the goes like, ‘‘don’t stop believin’, hold on to that feelin’ ’’. Hearing that again and again my fallen self pulled herself together again.
P. S. - Belated happy valentine’s you fallen ones. I may not be there for you but I am the same as you.
