Mybody heaved and shook without pause as I looked down at the grimy floor,holding my hands in close to my body. There was something wrong with me. Mymuscles contorted around me, breaking my arms from my chest to my head; I wasnot controlling them. I could feel my heart begin to beat faster as I thought;this is how it's going to end. For the situation, it seemed melodramatic. Therewas nothing dangerous near me but myself, a floor, and a wall; which, at thetime, seemed like very dangerous things. The floor below me seemed to shake andmy mind began to travel. What had I done? I broke a promise. I wasn't living upto my potential. My parents would hate me. I was going to be disowned. I hatemyself. I felt the warmth of saliva rush into my mouth. It was followed byyellow bile which stung at my throat as tears rushed down my face. I felt thewarmth travel down my chin as my body hit itself against the wall. My head hurtand the voices wouldn't stop. You are worthless. You are disgusting. Everythingyou are is wrong. My body continued to throw itself against the wall despite myprotests: "Stop! Stop!" However, my body did not listen and didn't care aboutmy complaints as everything started spinning and I spat yellow liquid from myinflamed mouth and let clear liquid run over my dry, red cheeks. No one wasthere. No one was there to comfort me. I had no one. Eventually, after whatfelt like a whole day of writhing on the floor, my muscles relaxed, my mouthstopped stinging, and I felt numb. What caused this? I asked myself, although Ialready knew the answer. I am bisexual and I just had an anxiety attack.
