Portrait of a Panic Attack

When I shun my meds or refuse to sleep I take on a dark aspect first and hear a ghost-like clock tick-tocking in my ear as if from a morbid place buried deep in the recesses of my troubled mind where I fret then panic with mammoth fear as I feel Death approaching all too near with every gasped-for breath of air I take! As I hyperventilate my lungs scream for oxygen that's not inhaling there and suddenly my life ebbs as I feel I am drowning, drowning for lack of air under an ocean of thick, choking steam of poison gas so vivid it's surreal.