Unpleasant memories.
You know that poem I posted a couple days ago? Well, it's been almost a year since it happened, which might be why it's so fresh in my mind. I can remember that night almost as clearly as I remember exactly where I was on 9/11, and the way some of my memories from DM come back. It's unfortunate, because that time was both stressful and amazing, and I'm no longer speaking with the person I called 911 for that night. She probably thinks I don't care about her anymore, but I do. Unfortunately, my mental health is more important for me to deal with before I handle other people's. This feels horribly selfish when I write about it, but I was so stressed last semester that I had to put my own mental health first.
I remember that night in sickening clarity-- how cold it was, the ice, calling 911, and managing to hold it together while I was on scene. I was calm, collected, sane, until I started to walk away, and it kicked me in the gut that I had just called 911 for a friend having chest pains and difficulty breathing. All I could think was, "She's too young to have a heart attack. She's too young to have a heart attack." It was nothing, it turned out, but I had the first major panic attack I'd had in a very long time. I was having trouble breathing and I was shaking, and crying, and I couldn't stop. Somehow, that's the worst part of having a panic attack-- I know what it is, and I know what it feels like, but I can't make it stop. It's the one time where I don't have control, and it is maddening and awful. Writing that poem brought it all back to the front of my mind, and honestly, I'm surprised that I can still remember that night so clearly.
I remember that night in sickening clarity-- how cold it was, the ice, calling 911, and managing to hold it together while I was on scene. I was calm, collected, sane, until I started to walk away, and it kicked me in the gut that I had just called 911 for a friend having chest pains and difficulty breathing. All I could think was, "She's too young to have a heart attack. She's too young to have a heart attack." It was nothing, it turned out, but I had the first major panic attack I'd had in a very long time. I was having trouble breathing and I was shaking, and crying, and I couldn't stop. Somehow, that's the worst part of having a panic attack-- I know what it is, and I know what it feels like, but I can't make it stop. It's the one time where I don't have control, and it is maddening and awful. Writing that poem brought it all back to the front of my mind, and honestly, I'm surprised that I can still remember that night so clearly.