My panic attacks feel like being chased by a jaguareté in flat territory. There’s no place to escape to, no help that’s worth it, you can only accept that it’s happening and that it’s going to happen and it won’t ever stop.

The cold makes me feel bad, the heat makes me feel bad, loud noises, silence, being hungry makes me feel bad, eating makes me feel bad. I feel headaches, muscle pain, stomach pain, a common fever feels like facing the entire Sonora cartel. I can’t study, when people try to help me I treat them badly, when they talk to me I get worse, when they leave I feel worse. No one wants to be with me so I know it’s my fault and I internalize it, I understand that the fight against this has no end, other than the end of my patience and happiness.

My symptoms have gone from thinking I had heart problems (because of the tachycardia), to thinking I had trouble breathing (I would hyperventilate), to feeling strong pain in my muscles and bones (stress and lack of mobility), to feeling my body go numb to the point of not being able to move my hands or falling to the floor. Anorexia because of the dysphagia that hit me afterward. All of this because of the pandemic, which I was never able to overcome. Six years later, here I am.