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A few months back, I was going through a rough patch and someone came along and things got better. One morning I awoke and laid in bed for a while.  Things were looking up.  I was genuinely happy and wanted to do something nice for someone else.  I waited til she woke up and went downstairs and started to make breakfast.  I was thinking about how nice the day before was and felt very calm.  Life was good.

I had some bacon cooking and the kitchen started to get warm.  I opened the back door to get some air.  I took the bacon out and put some toast in the toaster.   I noticed a few beads of sweat gathering on my brow.  I cracked an egg and started to make some omelets.  I took a step back and sweat began to drip from my head onto the floor.  Suddenly, I notice that my chest and back were soaked.  I had this feeling of dizziness, so I sat down.  My shirt was soaked through.  I took it off and prepared the plate.  My hands began to shake.  I tried to hold the plate of food and the coffee without spilling it.  It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.  I quickly ran upstairs, delivered the food and said I'd be right back.  I sat and tried to eat my food.  My hands were trembling to the point where food was falling all over the table.  The sweat was literally pouring off of my.  My entire body was soaked.  I tried to finish my meal and put the dishes into the sink and trying not to drop them I was somehow able to wash them.  My chest felt tight and I was disoriented.   I prayed she didn't come down stairs.  I was sure I was about to die.  I sat down again and tried to steady my hands.  I breathed slowly and closed my eyes.  Seconds later the tightness released from my chest, the sweat stopped running and I slowly felt at ease.  I took a few more breaths and headed upstairs.  I snuck into the bathroom and , dried myself off.  I took a few more breaths and exhaled deeply.

As I entered the bedroom, I was ashamed.  I felt embarrassed.  She asked me what was wrong. I laid down on the bed and just said I needed to relax.  I then explained that I thought I had a panic attack.  I had no concerns for my health, but there was such a feeling of guilt.  I felt as if I showed a vulnerability that I myself didn't know existed within me.  I can't explain the feeling, but I know it was was one of shear panic.  Later in the day, I was home alone.  I showered and thought about the day.  I felt as if I had lost a part of me.  I've always been able to keep my feelings and fears within, but this was not to be controlled.  I also can't explain the emotional after affects.  Complete shame.

Since that day, things haven't been as good and that feeling has come back twice.  Ironically both times were at times of complete calmness.  Once I was with a large group of people and I had to sign my name.  I couldn't write.  I was asked to print my name on an attendance form and there was no way. I scrawled something that vaguely looked like my name.  It dissipated almost immediately and I felt fine shortly after.  I never want to feel that way again and I wouldn't wish the feeling on anyone.  The only emotion worse than sorrow is helplessness.  That bright sunny summer morning was perfect in every other way, but for about five or six minutes, it was one of the darkest moments of my life.


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