Twisting muscles and veins of the heart, much like laundry being blown wildly on the line
Eases with breathing and being present—but not too much
In my own head
The repeat of a record spinning under a record player’s needle, plays over and over in my brain
This is the symptom we have and need to avoid or manage
Breathe in through the nostrils, Seven
Hold Seven
Out Ten through the mouth, drain it all the way down
And again
Measuring, comparing, visualizing normalcy
How many hours, days, months, can I go before another attack?
An insult on and to my life
Any distraction produces a knowing I am just like the next guy
Dealing, coping, living
That’s the key—just live
Live for this moment, the last one is gone, can never be changed
This day, this second, is all that counts
RiteWit 