Dads, Am I Right

After a horrendous argument with my dad that ended in me storming to my room, I collapsed onto the ground in a heap. Silent rage overlapped with quiet sobs, spiraling steadily into the semi-annual panic attack. It was all racing heart, quick breaths, sweating, tears, a little snot, the usual, until all of a sudden: I began to lose feeling in my body. At 15, I immediately realized it was the worst meltdown I had ever had--5 minutes in and I could not even blink, much less stand on my own. My two hands became inexplicably stiff, curiously reminiscent of Edward Scissorhands. I managed to crawl to the bathroom using my wrists for leverage, leaving a snail trail of bodily fluids in my wake. 20 minutes of lightheadedness, more sobbing, and the occasional vomit, my dad barged into the room to find me hyperventilating over the toilet bowl. Needless to say, the awful helplessness of being frozen in place, coupled with the humiliation of discovery was an experience I will never forget--no matter how much I'd like.

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