Panic at the Office

It'slike he could feel my relaxation. He could somehow sense that across town, I'm adapting well to having my son home... I had finally started to come to terms with the breakup (that he orchestrated) from the boyfriend. That I was smiling and laughing and almost normal, almost happy.

Unacceptable.

I knew it was a matter of time before he decided to come at me with a fresh batch of hell. I have a bad habit of sticking my head in the clouds and ignoring every bad ugly piece of life that I don't want to deal with.

I never fucking learn.

It came today. I was sitting at work responding to emails. My phone buzzed with a text. I did a double take seeing it was from "Nope". I read it through incredulous, not quite comprehending.

I read it again, slower. Trying to process. By the third read I was shaking. By the fifth tears began. By the seventh my heart was racing, I was sweating under my breasts and behind my knees. My stomach was upset, I felt as if I was going to vomit or shit my pants, maybe both. I took my phone and my cigs and went out the back door.

Found my hidey spot where I'm unlikely to be greeted by other smokers who are used to small talk and easy laughter from me. What would they think seeing me in this state? Eyes shut. Head shaking back and forth. Shaking uncontrollably. I can't speak in this state. I can only stammer wild eyed while I vibrate with fear and tension. Know what it looks like? It looks like I'm fucking crazy.

I can feel the panic rising still. I've dealt with a this long enough to recognize its onset. Sometimes, most of the time, I can talk myself down. Now. I've been dreading this, the last panic attack at work I was unable to stop, it generated countless conversations confirming all the rumors that spread through these cubicle farms as quickly as chlamydia spreads through the local high school every few years.

Sinking to the ground on the side of the building. It's 105 and I'm in the sun. I shut my eyes, I've got to push it down, push it away, stop it before it takes me over. I start the exercise that usually helps.

Grounding.

5 things I can feel I begin whispering the answers, I feel the sun on my face, I feel something sharp I'm sitting on, I feel dirt against the bare skin of my foot, I feel the heat from the ground rising, I feel the hard surface of the building against my back.

Continuing 4 things I can hear whispering still, I hear the buzz of the giant chillers working hard, I hear laughter from smokers around the corner in my usual spot, I hear cars driving just on the other side of the building, I hear the scraping of my shoe against the dirt while I shake.

3 things I see, I open my eyes and directly across from me I am looking at hundreds of windows 3 stories high, reflecting the July day while keeping their own secrets. I can see the yellow green weeds rising 12 inches or more back here, the maintenance crew is unaware of my hidey spit. I see my toes, painted cheerful cherry red like a wishful thought. But they're not shaking so violently now.

2 things I smell cigarettes burning and I smell my own sweat. I never noticed the difference before, but when a person sweats because of heat, or exercise...it's a very different smell than the cold, unforgiving sweat of pure terror.

Last I can touch the rubber band on my wrist. I've been snapping it absentmindedly for awhile. Unnoticed, a mindless habit born from my teenage years when I first fell in love with the release of my own pain through my skin. I snap it hard, it delivers a satisfying snap, but not as good as a blade would. It never is.

I take a few minutes and go through my grounding exercises again. And again. My heartbeat has slowed down as well as my breathing. My sweat is mostly due to sitting in the sun at this point. My hands are still shaking but the rest of me is still.

Good enough.

Rising from the ground, brushing the dirt off my skirt and legs. I light my cigarette as I move to the shady section and back in view of people. Giving a friendly wave but then turning to my phone quickly, pretending to be absorbed and busy.

Unapproachable.

The panic has been contained. This time.