Content warning: panic attacks, anxiety
My doona weighs me down unevenly, the internal blanket bunched and crumpled – no longer fitting perfectly into the doona cover corners. I lie on my back. Visual static. Grainy roof and walls. My room shifts to the left, then snaps back centred.
My bed sways in a sea of unvacuumed carpet, and my body rocks with every accelerated heartbeat. Breathing exercises that never work. Close my eyes and count to ten.
My burning lungs turn into a chugging train with broken brakes. Exorcise my breathing. I fantasise a cold, gentle hand reaching into my chest and holding my heart – squeezing it until it slows. Still. The night scene outside my window is calm and quiet.
The world is ending.