you’re human, you won’t break ;
It’s like someone’s dropped a flash-bang in the bathroom: the lights are too bright, there’s a constant, high-pitched tone piercing through her ears, and she can almost see her heart beating right out of her chest. Thumping rapidly, her heart-rate is increasing at an exponential speed, and her breathing is impossibly ragged. Roisin tries to take in long, deep breaths, but nothing enables her to alleviate the stuttering of her lungs.
Hands on either side of the sink, Ro stares down the plughole, willing her body to stop defying her. She should have known this was going to happen; all the signs were there. The horrible night of sleep, the missed alarm, the ruckus caused by a fight on the subway platform, the huge pile of work on her desk, the incessant ringing of her telephone, a relentless stream of negative stimulation.
All it took was raised voices and a slammed door coming from the conference room to tip her over the edge. Something ordinarily so benign suddenly a catalyst for a severe panic attack. As quickly as she could, Roisin rushed to the bathrooms, hoping no one paid her enough attention to notice her state.
Hands shaking, Ro splashes cold water on her face, praying that it’ll help keep her more alert and prevent her from passing out. She couldn’t bear the shame of that happening at work.