panic attack//

It's 3am on a Friday night, the alcohol stings your throat as you chug down another mouthful,

tears streaming down your face.

Your vision blurs. The bitterness that lingers in your mouth, is nothing compared to that you feel towards all that you've been through, towards everyone.

You drag your fingernails across your forearms in a frenzy tonight, as you question your sanity, question where you've gone wrong, questioned your existence, if all of this will be worth it in the end. You question people's intentions and you question humanity.

So, so, so many unanswered questions swirling through your head like that bit of alcohol left in the bottle in your right hand that's trembling from all that crying and silent screaming from the past hour. 

You lift the bottle and swallow the contents until the very last drop. You do this every time you feel like your heart is going to beat out of the cages keeping it in, when you feel so sick your stomach twists itself in knots, with hopes that the dizziness you feel will get rid of all the whispers taunting you in your head.

But it's also nights like these, you forget you'll eventually have to wake up to reality the next day, anyway. You tend to avoid that thought since it frustrates you, while hiding in the comfort of your blanket on the rooftop, under the blanket of protection you feel from the night sky. You're so convinced that the throbbing headache you'll get after this will "be better" than whatever you've been made to face. 

But somewhere at the back of your mind where Sanity, Consciousness and what's left of your practical self still resides, they tell you it wouldn't be, But the alcohol flowing through your bloodstream seems to have a different idea, and it's taking over whatever sense you're left with as you succumb to it.