If there is no love that does not become help, God doesn't love me.

My Heart Is Forever Collapsing

I am still breathing, but it's hard when I feel like my chest will explode. There's beauty and life in the drum of a beating heart, but mine sings a war song. My body is an adrenaline mill. My sympathetic nervous system never sleeps. My hands don't stop shaking, my legs are stuck in a nervous loop, and my head feels like it's cracking open.

I am still thinking, and I'm afraid I'll never stop. I'm beset with negativity. My amygdala feeds me fear as if I were its child. Any frightful thought you can conjure will seem real and immediate to me if I can't recognize its irrationality first. I'm living in the wake of a soul-sucking vortex.

This is my panic, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst of enemies.