I am a naturally anxious person, but sometimes, shit really
hits the fan.
I had a bit of a panic attack this morning — my heart was
out of control, my neck and shoulders were burning, but my hands were ice cold.
Take deep breaths, I told myself
sternly. Stop panicking! But the more
I tried to keep my composure, the faster I felt my throat closing up, and the
fuzzier my vision seemed to get. Why are
you still panicking? I chugged some water with shaking hands, hating the simultaneity
of my physical and mental weakness.
While staring at an oscilloscope’s signal a few hours
later, it crossed my mind that as much as I despised electronics lab last year,
sometimes I wish my brain was a circuit that I could wire up to do whatever I
told it to do. I wish there was a plug that went straight through my skull, a cable
that ran directly to my prefrontal cortex. I want a switch that can flip off my
crazy thoughts, or a transistor to amplify the rational ones. A diode that won’t
pass current unless there’s enough reason, or a capacitor that stores happiness
for the days I need it more. I can control the electrochemistry of a battery;
why can’t I control the electrochemistry of my neurons?
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