So I made a mistake last night.
In an effort to get all of my sesame seeds in a Tupperware container, I’d hit the top with plenty of seeds left, so I poured the rest (and there were a lot of them) on top of my salad and started chomping down as I finished up an episode of Parks and Recreation.
All of a sudden, I felt that almost-choking sensation. That one where you’re clearly fine, but you still have to cough it out a little bit. That was me.
Another very me thing to do is to panic. Because, as I internally screamed for the next hour, sesame seeds are incredibly small. So small they could line my windpipe and fall down without me knowing and slowly suffocate me.
One hour later, I’m hunched over my computer learning how to a deep cough from a random man with an ugly yellow shirt on YouTube. Eventually closing up my laptop, getting into bed and just swearing off my life.
“Well if I go down by sesame seed, I go down swinging”.
So that was a sort of long-winded way of saying that I can sometimes be a professional panic-er. Especially when it comes to my health.
I’ve started to find it a little amusing. Usually whispering something sassy to myself as I try to move on from whatever little thing I panicked over. But I’m not happy being this way.
I hate the feeling of my heart pounding ridiculously hard in my chest. I hate the nasty sweat on my forehead. I hate looking back and realizing that I took a very normal situation and ran way way too far with it.
I’m trying to calm down a little bit. Stop allowing my mind to worry about being another statistic. Trying to enjoy life a little bit more. Finding a little more faith in life or god or whoever out there who have helped me get through these moments of self-induced terror.
Sesame seeds or no sesame seeds, one thing is for sure.
I need to calm the fuck down.