As an adult, my fear took on distinct physical characteristics.  From seemingly out of nowhere, a panic attack would strike.  Suddenly, I’d feel an overwhelming sense of danger or impending doom and an intense need to get away from wherever I happened to be, even if it was as benign and known to me as standing at the kitchen sink doing dishes.  A tight ball of pain would form in the center of my chest, right at my sternum.  I’d start to sweat and shake and feel sick to my stomach.  I couldn’t get a good deep breath, like my lungs had stopped working.  I’d start to feel dizzy, my hands would go numb and my forearms start to sting.  I’d be hot and cold, all at the same time.  My heart would skip beats and I’d cough hard to try and normalize it.  Sometimes, I’d think I was going crazy, having a nervous breakdown.  Other times, I’d think I was having a heart attack.

© Salahub 2003