Inspiration me....panic

I developed panic attacks a couple of years ago, when I lived with a psycho and worked for another one.  At first I thought I was having a heart attack, then I hoped I was having a heart attack.

The pain unbearable.  The hyper breathing adding to it.  The cold sweats and the sheer panic....horrible.

For the past several months I had not had them until one night a brick fell on my reality.  Then more bricks on other realities.  The insomnia I had not felt crept back with a vengeance.

As I pack to move feeling that familiar feeling of not knowing a home.  Of not knowing where I belong.  I felt the cold sweat, the heavy breathing, the pain.  I stop packing and I sit.  This is one of those times where I would write to my friend, write out the pain, the fears, the insecurities.  But I can't, not anymore.  So....the pain increases, the breathing more labored and I then hold onto to my chest.

Then I just cry and as fast as I start...I stop.  There is no time for tears.  I take deep breaths over and over.  I chant my mantra.  I pray for God to give me strength.

Inspire me...someone...anyone....then I hear my father's voice.  I miss that man so much.  "Kiddo, you're stronger then you think."

He had such belief in me like no other.  I grabbed the first book I saw that wasn't packed.  Good ole Jessica Shepherd.

'As you are generous with your truth, the truth will be generous with you.'  Yes...the truth is, I am stronger then I believe.

I breathe easier.  I feel less pain.  The room no longer spins.  'Thanks Dad.'

I wait for the family friend that will arrive to help with the last of the packing and I am grateful that panic attack is passing.  I am grateful for more than that.