Running out of breath, to remind myself to breathe.

My ribs still hurt. So do my hands from clenching them. I hold my breath, to compensate for the fact my breathing and heart rate speed up. Makes no sense, since I feel like I can't breathe. It starts with a buzzing, static- like on an old tv when you were trying to tune it. I know why they use the word panic to start, because you are. Panicking.

I knew that day one was coming. They also seem to manifest in front of people I don't want to see them. Stupid fucking body. Should have stayed home that day.

It's like an emotional let down, or really overload? I'm carrying too much. I'm tired. Wrung out. My body is telling me I'm really not in control of a damn thing, and here's the proof. Maybe if I asked for help...

So of course, I chase that. Lack of control. How no matter what I plan, learn, love, work- I can only control the controllable. The things within my scope, my edge. 

I swear these moments- my overloaded system, my lack of forcing things to be the way I want, it's a bigger reminder. Niki, you don't know shit. Really, that's okay. Things will happen as they should, there are so many more factors than the way I want things to go. 

And it's all turned out the way it was supposed to. I run out of breath, to remind myself to breathe. I dream, to push the limits of my imagination. I learn to understand more. I love to push the capacities of my heart. 

Maybe it is weakness, the panic attacks. Maybe not. Maybe they manifest in moments I wish they didn't, to humble the shit out of me. 

I'll keep running out of breath, to remind myself to breathe.