The curtain around your bed blocks out some of the louder noises but some of the ones that say I shouldn't be here still get through. You sit and think, how did I end up here, you remember your friend walking you to an Uber, but what else?
The curtain opening interrupts that thought while you register that's a doctor talking with you.
They walk you through all tests they have done, let you know that physically you're fine and there's a little relief because at one point you felt like the world was coming to an end and it wasn't supposed to be like this.
So what happened, why did it feel like I couldn't breathe but needed more air, I could see but it looked like a narrow field, I could hear but everything was muffled. It was all I could do to stay conscious, to stay with it.
But did I?
There's a conversation that includes the word panic and a phrase panic attack, which sound nothing like you, not you, the strong dependable one who copes when everyone else fails, not you who sees the way through and helps others get there.
Panic, that's not you.
A few days later when you're with your GP they use the same words again and this time prescribe a beta blocker to help slow your heart, reduce the adrenaline effect and then ask about how's home, how's work?
Panic, home, work, who's this for, not you?
But the script has your name and that's what they call out at the pharmacy, take one a day or as needed, today's date and there it is again, your name on the packet.
So it must be you.
It's not a good feeling and it comes with lots of questions. If I panic, who am I now? What happened to the strong, reliable person I used to be? There's the feeling again, the sharper breaths, the heightened sense of the real.
Then you remember something about a breathing pattern the doctor said to try, with effort you start to return. You know it's not the old you and that realisation starts to send you again. You realise there's no end in sight if you keep yourself in this loop.
Here you are, tabs open searching away, lots to read most of it 15 ways to beat the panic attack blues but none of it sounds like you. This isn't a technical failure, not an issue with technique, it's a you problem. Nothing you set out to do but you're strong enough to carry more than others can cope with and willing to go a little further because you can.
Or you could.
Which might mean something else is going on, there's an iceberg here with panic visible but what's below the waterline?
Could there be something else that needs to be seen?