The air around me thickens
and the throbbing in my head
morphed into a relentless pounding,
an invisible rhythm,
turning the dull ache
into a full-blown migraine.
My throat constricts at my panic,
my chest tight and my lungs
screamed for more fresh air —
I gulped frantically
at the pockets of air
made available to me.
I willed, again and again,
chanting in my mind,
“help me God, help me,”
as I stared straight ahead
at my stop that is now
in my sight.
At long last,
the bus rolled into my stop
and I threw myself out
into the open space,
finally, finally indeed,
I am home.
This was an episode of anxiety attempting its hold on my life one evening while on my way home from work. It was yet another draining day and work had simply sucked the life out of me. I got so tired of trying too much, and giving too much.
When it crept up on me, I felt the oxygen supply cut off, suffocated, and the bus too crammed with people — before me, beside me, everywhere.
I hadn’t realise that I was taking small, shallow breaths until I could see patches of darkness beginning to cloud my vision. But giving into the darkness can never be a choice, especially not when I was alone in the bus. So even though abrupt, I stood up, and pushed my way until I made it to the door and simply planted myself there. When the doors finally opened at my stop, I thrust myself out into the cool, crisp, evening air.
As suddenly as it came, it was gone.
I returned back to my normal self and walked back home.
Ladies and gentlemen, here we are —
The Wild Muse, #01.
Love, Min
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