Panic attack

Am I terrified about putting this post up?
Yes.
Do I feel extremely exposed?
Yes.
So why am I putting this up?
So that others that have panic attacks don't feel that they're alone. And maybe to help those who are around people with panic attacks to understand them.
Even though everyone's panic attacks are different, this is my experience with them. I wrote this whilst having a panic attack and this photo was taken five minutes after.  But it's important to remember. I think hope dies for everyone, at least once in their lives. But it always resurrects, in one form or another, if you give it a chance. You have to give it time.

Sometimes you're not sure. It's almost like a nightmare twist to an orgasm. It builds up, sometimes without you noticing. Something flips that switch, and hell let's loose.
Your hands clench into fists, your feet curl up on themselves as if for protection. You forget about everything in the world apart from that one thing that's making you have a panic attack. That's your whole universe for this time. And as nothing else exists, it intensifies your attack.
You start to cry, your nose runs, you breathe so rapidly that your lips quickly become dry and cracked.
Then you shake. You don't even notice, sometimes, until you see your hands, violently shuddering, and they don't stop. Your whole body begins to tense up, and shake.
You feel sick. You feel scared. You feel so tired.
And then it suddenly ends.
And it could be argued that the aftermath is worse. You feel the pain of your sore lips, the aching of your muscles, how limp your body goes from the adrenaline. Your eyes feel sore and puffy and you desperately hope that no one walks in, because the tears were obvious.
You feel defeated. You feel scared. You feel empty. You feel alone. You feel utterly helpless.
You want to curl up under a blanket and eat nutella out of a jar with a spoon.
Because you just had a panic attack. And even five minutes later, this is how defeated you look.