Panic
My memory of my first panic attack is clear, even if the memory of everything surrounding it was not:
It was some day of the week in 1998, upstairs at some bar in Champaign. It was one of two-at-that-time goth nights in town. There were velvet chairs, and a bar, and a pole. There were great people, and meh people, and annoying people, and probably people who didn't fit into any of those categories.
I was studying. Yes, at the club. I am, and was, a geek, even in that setting. I was feeling a little on edge, but nothing was really wrong. And suddenly I had a rush of terror that made me have to leave the club, in the "fleeing from the giant wolves trying to chase me down" sense of "have to".
It was as if some great dark beast had very quietly padded up beside me and gone "boo." Very loudly, with big teeth, in a language I didn't understand.
So I left. Quickly. And never went back.
I'm remembering this now because I've been on the edge of a panic attack for a couple of days now. I don't want to go back there. Again.
It was some day of the week in 1998, upstairs at some bar in Champaign. It was one of two-at-that-time goth nights in town. There were velvet chairs, and a bar, and a pole. There were great people, and meh people, and annoying people, and probably people who didn't fit into any of those categories.
I was studying. Yes, at the club. I am, and was, a geek, even in that setting. I was feeling a little on edge, but nothing was really wrong. And suddenly I had a rush of terror that made me have to leave the club, in the "fleeing from the giant wolves trying to chase me down" sense of "have to".
It was as if some great dark beast had very quietly padded up beside me and gone "boo." Very loudly, with big teeth, in a language I didn't understand.
So I left. Quickly. And never went back.
I'm remembering this now because I've been on the edge of a panic attack for a couple of days now. I don't want to go back there. Again.