Panic attack

A year ago, I was preparing to leave on an adventure – two months working in central Europe. I’ve been thinking about that a lot, because this month I’m preparing for another adventure – only this time I’ll be traveling to a new version of myself, as a teacher and writer. Guess which journey is scarier?

A week ago, after I sent queries for my novel out to agents and publishers, I had a panic attack. Wrote to a friend, and then in my lovely little writing group, turned that message of panic into this sort-of-a-poem.

If this goes on any longer

am I going blind?
is it possible for panic to literally make you go blind?
are the edges of my vision getting dark? 
if this goes on any longer will I be able to see enough to walk home?
should I call someone?
should I call a taxi, or an ambulance?
should I call my spouse?
should I call you? 

will I be able to dial a phone?
dial a phone?
dial?
why do we still use that word?
when was the last time I actually dialed a phone?
what do the kids these days call it?
do they still call it dialing? 
if they use that word, do they know what it means or is it just a series of sounds they’ve been taught to associate with punching keys on a touch screen?

punching keys?
isn’t that an anachronistic phrase too?
if you actually punched anything on a touch screen, would it shatter?
how much force would it take to shatter a touch screen?
is there an app for that?
do they still call them apps? 

is there an app to tell me what to do now? 
to remind me where I was and what I was doing when my vision started to dim?
is there an app to interrupt a panic attack? 
is it possible for panic to literally make you go blind?
am I going blind?
if this goes on any longer will I be able to pull myself together, to see you walk through that door, after all the years and the distance, will I see your face break into a smile I can only imagine is as big as mine, because I can’t see mine, I can only see you?

is that you now?
are you finally here?

am I going blind?
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