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Lets shed some reality on mental illness. It's not cute, it's not a joke and it's not an excuse: Write about a panic or anxiety attack. I'd love to see poetry, short stories and glimpses into who you are.
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hannahbean

I wrote my first will at age 12

It always happened at night, which was 

'irritating'

'exhausting'

'embarrassing'

So I kept them to myself after a while.

I thought that I was dying, my

hypochondria and paranoia and

N-e-r-v-o-s-a, technical terms on Web M.D.

that only trickled down into my conclusion that

I would be dead by morning.

My heart was beating too fast, too hard

and my body ached like a 100-year-old man,

not like a scared adolescent girl who

couldn't control her breathing,

chest going up down up down

until it would finally flood with something and 

s t o p  

w o r k i n g.

I would apologize to the thin air for things that I had done that day, 

that week,

things I couldn't even control:

I could have beaten Atlas with the weight on my shoulders.

My possessions would have been divvied up equally amongst my family members, so

when they finally found my corpse laying in bed

they would have a clear cut way to take apart my room. 

I made sure my whimpering

wheezing

whining

and watery eyes

were quiet enough so that the rest of my house could sleep.

All of that worrying must have scared them to death.