Panic. I feel the pressure building in my chest and I feel my grasp on it slipping away. My mind is screaming for it to go away, but it only seems to feed the fuel within my torso. Panic. The more I try to ease the tension the more it seems to grow. FUCKING HELL! Panic. I take deep breaths to slow down my heart, but it races a mile a minute.
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It's not that we don't enjoy being with them it's just that we worry so much about their reactions to us and it's starts a cyclical worry that can't necessarily be nipped in the bud.
Very well written and relate-able.
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