Violent pounding,
hysterical thoughts.
Please make them stop.
"Everything is dirty"
"The air is filled with disease"
Sweaty palms,
trembling limbs.
The knot in my throat is one eye-blink
away from becoming tears...
"The disease is already inside you, colonizing"
"You are unclean"
"You are sick"
Agitated exhaling,
desperately inhaling,
I am at the mercy of what is in me.
"Wash your hands three times"
"Avoid touching surfaces"
"A door handle is dirtier than the toilet seat"
The relief comes later,
in the form of a high-dose sedative.
Taking that pill is confessing failure.
"You know you can get addicted to those?"
"You can't even handle yourself"
"No wonder everyone thinks you are insane"
I remember to find my breath,
a steady rhythm.
Breathe in, breathe out.
"Another day, another failure"
"One day you won't recover"
One day I won't need to recover,
because I'll have this under control.
At least I hope so.
Frida Victoria Perez is a writer born and raised on both sides of the Rio Grande River. Due to this, she developed a bi-cultural identity and a desire to be a champion for mental illness awareness and other taboo issues surrounding Mexican-Americans. She is an alumni of the BMED program at UTRGV and a first-year veterinary student at AVC.
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