I splash cold water onto my face, breathing deeply, and
stare at myself in the mirror, taking three long breaths to get myself back
under control.
I am alone in the house, I am not having a panic attack.
I’m not.
I do not have to worry, I’m just naturally panicked, I’m a
little brittle and that’s okay. Lots of people are brittle some of the time,
and with the year I’ve had it’s natural I’d have a weak moment now and again.
It’s okay to be a little brittle, so long as you don’t let
it control you, so long as you don’t give in to panic. I splash more water and
grip the sink with both hands, to steady my nerves.
I am in control of my nerves, you see, and brittle isn’t
broken. I know there is no need to be afraid.
“I am alone in the house.” I tell myself in a whisper,
staring at myself in the mirror, alone in the reflection I find.
“Yes,” comes a voice from behind me, “You are.”
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