Mirrors. Only showing you what’s in plain sight, and nothing more. All that is shown is what’s on the surface, and it’s ineptitude to see the whole picture allows it to only tell part of a story, part of the truth. But that is all the mirror can understand. They can show you how you feel, but can never tell you why. My panic attack felt just like this, hard to decode.
There was true trepidation in my heart that day, yet I didn’t understand what for. In the moment all that I could understand was that I was uncontrollably scared. Like a mirror, I could only see what I felt and nothing more. The feeling of fear was archaic for me and always understood. There was always a reason behind it, a cause. Yet the experience left me stuck and unsure. The guise of a comfortable, happy person was quickly established by the wiping of tears, and a smile. And to the mirror that was what I was, what I became. But only I knew that was far from the truth, and what belied in my reflection was false narrative of me.