The Panic Ends
...when you go into the silence.
I was alone at home during my first panic attack. Instinctively, I took my pulse, placing two fingers on my neck so I could feel my heart racing. For the next two years I would check my pulse often, desperately needing to confirm my heartbeat had slowed. During this period of my life I kept quiet vigil with the darkness, and would gladly listen to anyone who might lovingly assure me everything that had happened was relevant to my life. When I finally saw a light break on the horizon, my heart returned to a steady beat. And somehow I knew to keep still, letting go of what I thought remained to be done.
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