Give Me All Your Pain

28. Old Wounds- II

Aanya

Without sparing her another glance, I turned and walked out of the room. The overwhelming feeling of suffocation that I had been suppressing crashed over me in full force.

How could she possibly forgive him after enduring all those years of suffering?

My emotions boiled over, and I found myself consumed by a deep hatred. I hated her for being so miserable, for accepting a life of torment. Anger coursed through me, and I felt betrayed by her.

She wanted me to forgive my father, but it was her words and actions that had fueled my growing hatred for him throughout my entire childhood.

She wanted to forgive him, but I couldn't.

It was like walls were closing in on me, and my heart raced as if trying to break free from my chest. Each breath became a struggle, a shallow gasp for air that never seemed to satisfy the relentless demands of my racing mind.

I stumbled into the bathroom, my trembling fingers fumbling with the lock on the door. My vision blurred as tears welled up, blinding me to everything but the overwhelming sense of dread that gripped me.

With a shaky hand, I turned the lock, sealing myself off from the world outside. The small bathroom suddenly felt like a sanctuary, a place where I could hide from the chaos of my own thoughts.

I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the cool tiles. The coldness seeped through my clothes, grounding me in the present moment. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing, but it was an uphill battle.

My chest tightened, and I gasped for air, feeling like I was suffocating in my own skin.

I'm happy, I'm alive, I'm loved. I repeated a mantra in my head, trying to drown out the racing thoughts.

I'm happy, I'm alive, I'm loved, You're okay. It's just a panic attack.

I'm happy, I'm alive, I'm loved, You've been through this before. You'll be fine.

But my mind became a chaotic whirlwind, each thought a tempest tearing through my consciousness.

It felt like all the suppressed emotions I had held inside were suddenly released, and they surged up to my throat, threatening to suffocate me.

Breathing became a battle, as if an invisible hand gripped my windpipe, making every inhalation a struggle. I gasped for air, my chest tight and constricted, as if the emotions were physically squeezing the life out of me.

I was feeling everything all at once, and it was overwhelming.

Anger, sadness, hurt, betrayal, fear, despair – they all flooded my senses at once, a tidal wave of raw, unfiltered emotion crashing against the walls of my mind

And I wanted it to stop. I wanted to escape the torrent of emotions that threatened to drown me.

I wanted to stop feeling. I wanted my mind to go quiet.

The tumultuous storm in my mind raged on, unyielding and unforgiving. I felt as though I were drowning in a sea of my own fears and anxieties, and the need for release became overwhelming. In that desperate moment, I crawled towards the bathroom shelf, my trembling hand reaching out for the razor.

I clutched the razor tightly, its sharp edges digging into my palm, delivering a searing sting. Yet, the pain was a welcome contrast to the suffocating grip of my emotional suffering. With each passing second, I tightened my grip, determined to employ this physical pain as an anchor—a lifeline to the present.