It takes the smallest, most unpredictable thing to trigger it.
We can be fine. Moving together. I am grabbing the sheets, grabbing at flesh, my mind in the skies, my body absorbed in the feeling, wrapped up in the present and the heat and the friction and the depth.
I feel the walls close in within my mind. My breath comes in short, ragged draws, like I'm drowning and I can't get to the air. The terror swells up in me. For a few short moments, I am lucid enough, aware enough, to feel my grip on reality slipping. Determined and bull-headed, I grab on tighter, furiously insistent on holding on to my surroundings. I fight it. I push against the fear.
But it slips over my head and I can't resist anymore. I'm drowning in a panic, I'm losing the battle, I'm underwater.
I can't speak. Can't think. I am underneath someone. I am worthless. I am helpless. I am terrified and useless and nothing. I feel them using me like a mindless fucktoy. I cannot leave. I cannot stop it. I am a part of it. I am the cause. I am nothing, I am nothing.
Weightless under the surface, I float into that realm where I have no control and no perception. I feel pain. I feel pressure. I can't see where I am - the ceiling isn't the right ceiling, the body above me isn't the right body, I'm not the right body. Everything from the core between my legs, up my belly, down my legs, is screaming.
But I'm not screaming.
I am experiencing.
I am pure fear. I am nothing but fear.
And as the experience fades, as the sensation comes back in my fingertips, as I begin to be able to move my torso, my head,
As hard as I can
I scrabble again for my grip on the Real World
I dig my nails into the earth and I pull myself back
With all my strength
And I lay there in myself
Wiped out from simply breathing
I feel embarrassed. I feel exhausted. I feel broken