MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “panic attacks”

Prejudiced thieves

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Even for days before, Emma was suffering a panic attack. At the thought alone of what was to come, her breathing became faster, her stomach felt tied in a knot and she had an unbearable pain pounding on her chest. Her head felt almost too much to carry on her shoulders, and she was very often dizzy.

Stress was a bad companion.

More so when it was accompanied by prejudices.

We all carry them with us. Our own perspectives and beliefs on how things will be. They are shaped by past experiences, our mentality, our notions of reality, of what we’ve already seen and felt. We have an apt for predicting the future, for irrationally wanting it to pan out the way it’s forecast in our heads, so that we can pat ourselves on the back later on and confirm our worst fears, telling ourselves we were right. It is one of the paradoxes of human nature. Of wishing things don’t turn out to be the prejudice we have in mind, but of deeply hoping they do so we can verify ourselves.

The day before the event, Emma broke down. She couldn’t concentrate enough to do anything. The thoughts in her mind were too much to bear. She could almost hear a cacophony of voices trying to persuade her that whatever can go wrong will.

Jonathan found her on the couch, curled up as if willing the world to go away.

He touched her shoulder and she sprung upright, the tension having made her uptight.

You wouldn’t invite a thief into your house, so why do you allow thoughts in your head that steal your joy?” he asked.

If your prejudiced things will go wrong, and you adopt a negative attitude because of it, then things are bound to turn into what you fear. If it is true that we attract what we believe and feel, it is all the more important to maintain an open-mind and a positive attitude. Life may surprise us in the end.

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The breaking point

11146-broken-pencil-tip-1680x1050-photography-wallpaperHarold was a man with exceptional patience. He possessed the remarkable ability of retaining his calm even in situations where it was most likely to lose all control and begin to scream, either out of panic or of agitation. Yet, he managed to radiate a tranquility that was truly rare in such times of increasing uncertainty and turbulence.

That was until one Friday. It was also the 13th.

Things started out badly that day when he broke the mug he had been drinking coffee in for the past few years and which had become his favourite. He should have seen it coming then, the streak of bad luck, but he chose to ignore it. Optimism was always the best course of action. He convinced himself there was no use worrying over anything he could not change, and especially a mug, which could easily be replaced.

But then he went to work. And that is where it all fell apart.

On his desk he found an invoice charging him an extravagant amount for services that supposedly were provided, but he recalled very well how last week he had a row with that specific manager for not delivering the agreed services, forcing Harold to in the end do all the work himself. Why was he expected now to actually pay for work he himself did?

Harold began to fidget nervously, feeling his heart beat increase significantly.

The next blow came when he realized that he was literally robbed of cash from his bank account because his Internet provider had on a whim decided to increase the cost of services three-fold.

But the real “icing on the cake” came when his boss stormed into his office infuriated, blaming Harold for something he had not done. Or rather something Harold had advised not to do, yet no-one listened to him, and now a major client had withdrawn investment. Someone always had to be blamed. And it was usually the calmest and quietest one that gets chosen as the scapegoat.

Harold erupted.

That was when he began to constantly feel angry and irritated. About everything. It took even the slightest of sounds to tick him off. He was fuming about the injustices that always fell upon him; how he was always blamed for things that went wrong, even when it was not his fault. He was annoyed at how nobody ever did their job or at least what they proclaimed they would do but always wanted to be paid the full amount no matter the quality or quantity of what they delivered. He was livid about how others always wanted you to adhere to your part of the agreement but never lived up to their own. But most of all he was enraged about how corrupt the human soul really is, having no qualm or remorse whatsoever in outright stealing, cheating and deceiving the other.

Harold had changed over the course of just a week.

He could no longer sleep at night, haunted by these thoughts that swarmed his mind like Erinyes. Even when he did manage to doze off for a while, he would wake up drowning in his own sweat with his heart racing, suffering panic attacks in his very sleep.

Nothing could offer any consolation any more. It was the curse of realizing no matter how good you are the bad somehow always end up getting their own way. He was tormented by things he was wronged about and, although he knew nothing could be done to change them, for some reason he could not let go or forget about them.

He had to move on.

All it really takes, is to find one person who will demonstrate that not everybody is the same. To be able to restore your confidence in humanity, your faith in kindness, and bring back the smile on your face.

For Harold that would arrive a month later. At a bar a few blocks from his house. In the form of a beautiful brunette who had also suffered many injustices in her life and who described herself as “walking bad luck”. Combined, they would change their destinies.

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