I write a lot of poems about my mental health. It’s a topic that has been taboo for a long time, but it shouldn’t be. I experience bipolar disorder, and while my ups and downs are shorter than some people with the condition (lasting a few days to a week), they can be very intense. Last night, I had a really bad panic attack, the worst one I’ve had in a long time. Even now, I feel a bit on edge, though not as severely as last night. This is why I like sharing these things about my life: to normalize mental health experiences. By opening up, hopefully others who struggle will feel empowered to seek help and connect with others who understand.

Walls tighten, a vise in disguise,
Air thins, a thief in the night.
My chest constricts, a cage for a prize,
Each breath a desperate fight.

The world shrinks, a tunnel too small,
Sounds distort in a deafening hum.
Thoughts race, a maddening squall,
Leaving reason numb.

Fingers claw, grasping at air,
A primal need, a desperate plea.
Stars prick my vision, a frightening flare,
Is this the end of me?

But a voice, faint in the storm,
Whispers, “Slow down, you’ll be alright.”
A mantra repeated, a weathered norm,
To pull myself back from the night.

Muscles relax, their grip starts to ease,
A shuddering sigh, a sliver of peace.
The world unfurls by gentle degrees,
And the terror begins to cease.

Fragile and shaky, the moment recedes,
Leaving behind an exhaustion profound.
But the memory lingers, a whisper it seeds,
A battleground, hard-fought, yet unbound.