She was 5.
Not a glimpse of sadness in her eyes
Full of life
Then one day, She met you at 5
Next door neighbor , Not a fear in sight
She climbed into the treehouse with you on her right
That was when she had to fight to get your hands off of her, To cry out but none to help her, She just cried unable to stop you,
You put sadness in her eyes.
Took the innocence out of her life, Took her spark with you
Her eyes now empty, No spark no innocence. Just the tears you caused when you hurt her, Took her childhood away from her.
Now shes 18 and got ptsd, Trying to live her life, yet you still haunt her
Panic attacks and flashbacks,
She wishes she could go back and save herself when she was 5,
She was 5 when you took her life from her eyes,
She was 5.
-E.B.
If I had to describe her persona in one word,
It would be real,
The romantic kind of real,
Not the real that says,
What you see is what you get.
The real that begets unconditional Love,
The often frustrating kind of real,
That is genuinely caring,
But independent to a point that takes,
A heap of non-interference,
A strict adherence,
To Unconditional Love being the only point of
reference,
One that asks for patience,
And a total lack of offence.
The kind of independence,
That a shovel will not budge,
With only time able to give her that nudge,
Which is needed to open her eyes to,
What unconditional Love can do,
To lighten her burden.
And make her see independence in a new light.
An independence though still intact,
Less exact,
Open to saying the occasional yes,
When help from those with unconditional love in their hearts,
Is offered in a way that is full of tact.
And empty of tacks,
That in the past has caused her to have panic attacks.
You reach an age where your mind loves scanning back.
Over your history - the days of youth, joy, rage and all the panic attacks!
Sometimes so vivid the memory you feel you could touch it by reach. Sometimes so dark the memory the wall needs regular maintenance to avert the breach.
Retired as age ticks on and on and you feel your mind is given permission once again to be free. You realise that some dreams of youth were simply never meant to be. But take solace from within the warmth you have now. You understand this life and you survived somehow.
Confessions of a broken heart.
In the quit of the dark
The stillness the running of thoughts
The struggle to find clarity
In an environment built upon disparity
Rumors lies dishonorable acts
Fill the mind like panic attacks
At a crossroads a mental impass
Emotionally still attached
Direction to go is at a lack
Physically feel completely detached
As if in mourning someone who hasn't even passed
Hope remains for a second chance
For a love that doesn't freelance
Children of the Gaza,
How do you strive to survive?
Children of the Gaza,
Why aren't your struggles amplified?
Children of the Gaza,
Can you hear my voice?
Children of the Gaza,
Tell me, are you still alive?
Young souls, being killed everyday,
"Babies aren't meant to be here", they say,
There's a horrifying, terrified sound 2 year olds make,
Hearing the sound of planes.
Being fed water instead of milk,
Where has your baby formula been?
Being thrown bombs over your heads,
Is this how months olds are supposed to be fed?
Voices struck in their throats,
Bloody and hoarse,
Lost in the noise of destruction,
Panic attacks and starved stomachs.
What did they do to deserve,
To be born in the middle of the war?
Panic attacks can seem…
Pointless.
Jumps up and down.
A sighing yet struggling feeling.
Sighing out so much.
Because it’s boring.
Like a pencil lead from a mechanical pencil breaking.
Then you put more in.
There’s something pointless about it.
I can’t describe.
It used to be a passionate feeling.
Knocking down all the books off the shelf like crazy.
But these days it doesn’t feel like much.
Like wearing one sock because I lost the other.
That pulling and spinning.
It doesn’t define me.
A panic attack is like…
A squealing beetle.
Now I know that I’m the beetle.
And I can crawl onward.
Rational me is capable and whole
Irrational me has complete lack of control
Rational me is happy and relaxed
Irrational me panics and cracks
Rational me views life in a positive light
Irrational me battles crippling fear without hope in sight
Rational me makes the most of every day
Irrational me wants to sleep the day away
Rational me is clear...has clarity
Irrational me is afraid…engulfed by anxiety
Rational me sees beauty and light
Irrational me faces a darker plight
Rational me lives life on the right track
Irrational me suffers debilitating panic attacks
There is one thing that I know is true.
I would not have made it God without you.
There were times when I knew I could not win.
I sent up a prayer and you stepped in.
To your word you're always true.
I could not have made it God without you.
Throughout my life there were many times.
When I thought I'd loose my mind.
I'd search my bible for what to do.
I could not have made it God without you.
People I've trusted just turned their backs.
Those battles I had with Panic Attacks!
Calling out to you was the best thing to do.
I just could not have made it God without you.
I don't need to worry because I know you care.
Don't need to fear the future, you're already there.
I'll just keep reminding myself of what you can do.
Looking back, I only made it God because of you.
Now I'm older and a bit more gray.
I rely on you a little more each day.
But I just smile, because I know what's true.
The moment I leave here, God I'll be there with you.
I have something good to say.
It happens to me everyday.
God talks to me.
Whenever things in my life go wrong.
I go somewhere to be alone.
So, God can talk to me.
In life there are times when I fear.
I stand still so I can hear.
God talk to me.
As I begin a brand new day.
I want his guidance so I say.
God talk to me.
When bills are high and money low.
Alone with Him is where I go
Because, I need God to talk to me.
When my wife and I are mad.
Times like that are truly sad.
I ask God to talk to me.
Back when my life went off the track.
I was having frequent panic attacks.
God talked to me.
Once I was laying in a hospital bed.
Wondering if I'd end up dead.
I was comforted because God talked to me.
Sometimes other voices can be heard.
I verify who it is by reading God's word.
Because God confirms his talks to me.
At times there are images that I see.
They seem to answer certain questions for me.
That is just God talking to me.
When I do or say things wrong.
Or go places I do not belong.
God will talk to me.
When all things in my life is right.
That's when I push God out of sight.
I guess that's why Jesus compares us to sheep!
Tick.
Rattling in my brain,
Tick.
I—
Tick.
Tick.
Can’t imagine you’re pain,
I too—
Tick.
Tick!
Once felt that way,
Did you ever—
Tick!
Tick!
Try those breathing exercises?
I heard they—
TICK.
Gasp!
TICK.
Stop panic attacks on the horizon,
No well—
TICK.
GASP.
TICK TICK TICK TICK!
Maybe you’re faking it.
My heart beats quite steady firm tightness my jaw sore as I await the infamous cardiovascular disorder to finally finish me off while the rhythm of my heart requires ongoing medication that allows my blood not to clot causing lots of bruises frightful panic attacks keeping me awake at night totally affecting my DAYTIME SLEEP APNEA how do I stay awake barely watching the echo machine carry the beat of my heart o er to the harmonic waiting area I'm only by a thread held together by medication regiment staying alive after two strokes and a heart attack I should be dead already an yet I'm here breathing by nebulizer pumps sprays I'm alive I'm here by a thread surviving just to live just to feel the echo of my Heart beating
The vague and the abstract turned into a contract,
adrenaline junkies, now joined in a dare.
With hands up, no screaming, they’d both go careening,
defying gravity at the State Fair.
What started as amity morphed to calamity
enough that the riders had panic attacks.
When they reached the summit, they started to plummet
just as a mutt ventured onto the tracks.
The new rollercoaster got hot as a toaster
as the conductor stomped hard on the brake.
With no time for acting, they heard the impacting
of metal on flesh as the mutt flew the lake.
To worsen the matter, gratuitous splatter
was added for gratis to this ruinous ride;
they grew more embittered once they had considered
those patches of hide from the cur that had died.
The horrors receded as they both conceded
while parting the last bits of gore with a comb.
They climbed in the pickup, and with no further hiccups
slumped up the hill slowly and headed for home.
At noon, most people eat lunch.
They aren’t hiding.
At 12:30, they are heading back to their desks, and sighing heavily.
I’m breathing too much.
I’ll have a quick panic attack.
With just the sounds of shuffling and teeth chattering.
In here.
A closet with a broom.
A dark room, I am in.
I’m as stoic as the broom, in this room.
I could be eating.
I used to like eating.
At 12:35.
Lunch is over.
It’s time to punch back in.
Punching in doesn’t make a sound.
But it still wakes me up.
Dull, eyes open, stirring.
I had a quick panic attack.
In a closet, ten feet from here.
I wish I didn’t…
Miss out on snacks in the breakroom-
But I don’t have time, like I used to.
I also wish I didn’t have panic attacks…
I can barely type, I can barely sit right.
I feel wild, and spinning, and adventurous!
Keeping the secret another day.
As hard as it is.
Makes me feel scared.
Makes me feel proud.
they spoke about him in whispers
I did not catch the disease the first time
what is it?
kakorrhaphiophobia
what is that?
fear of failure
don’t we all have that?
not to his degree
He has panic attacks and is thrown into flight or fight mode
on a daily basis
can he work?
no, he can barely function
what causes this?
parents who did everything for him
never letting him do one thing for himself.
Today we dance on a mountain
slide he covers me from the
beaming sun as tiny raindrops
splash across our faces colorful
hues invite my cunning smile to
relax and enter the unknown
wandering about newness my
senses responds to his every
beckon call needing the comfort
of my calmness we cater to our
illnesses our flaws loving every
drop of laughter we'd bestowed
since yesterdays panic attacks
clinging solely to healing coping
peace the sweetness of peace
overlooking all impulsive needs
to react to the powerful threats
bullying mental cruelty from the
sad tyranny boldly tormenting
portraying mafia notions cleverly
hidden behind human satisfaction
a quiet bliss employs us as we master
just loving us in this moment today
as we simply dance the day away
Awareness saves lives
Anxiety disorder Agraphobia
Panic Attacks survivors
my husband and I are truly
blessed God bless all who served
and God bless The Federal Bureau
of Investigations The United States of America
We are still here we are Safe
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