The Causes Of The Panic Attacks

This is something,
Which still weighs heavily in my heart,

For I’ve described, now,
The nature of the panic attacks,

But rarely had the chance to explain,
What actually caused them.

From an early age they began,
Through frustrating interactions with my parents;

They always started,
With some lesser anxiety,
β€”Going to bed, when I’m not sleepy,
β€”Dog sick on the floor,
β€”Dog s**t on the carpet,
β€”My brother not sharing something;

It was impossible to respect my parents,
For the arguments they used in those situations,
β€”Always trying enforce their decisions,
Simply by reasoning, that they’re my parents;

It never worked with me,
Because it wasn’t logical,
β€”Not to me,
And it wasn’t emotional;

And emotions were the biggest reason,
My parents couldn’t communicate with me;

For my Dad doesn’t show emotions,
And my Mum uses them disproportionately,
And inappropriately;

He also tried to enforce his will by physical force,
And terror,
Which really didn’t fly with me;

β€”There was never any two-way communication,
β€”I was being stressedβ€” sensorily, morally,
Probably, they were too,
In other ways;

They always belittled my complaints;

It was made so much harder,
By being the odd one out,
β€”The only one to get so freaked out,
By dog sick, left on the carpet,
To fester;

Why wasn’t it cleaned up more quickly?
Because I’d asked for it to be done,
β€”And my parents resented me,
For ever-trying to ‘control’ them;

I always questioned that logic,
At the time,
“Why would I want to do that?
It’s crazy”,

They never had even a hypothetical explanation,
β€”Never granted to me,
The benefit of intelligence;

Whenever these interactions would inevitably result,
In me experiencing the crushing dread and anger,
β€”They’d always lie about the events,
Turn them around,
So that they began with me shouting;

This led to some absurd conversations,
β€”Like, this one time,
I had to test this hypothesis:

I was really stressed about something,
At dinner,
So I started to talk about it,
In the most deliberately calm and relaxed voice,
I could manage,
But was met with silence,
As usual,

β€”They’re just unable to empathise,
In the simplest of ways,
β€”I took it as ignoring me,
Not caring, in any way;

So I had to repeat myself,
Trying to be more clear,
Growing frustrated,
As I was only feeling worse;

Then would start their impatient comments,
Cutting, incising,
Hurtful insults,
β€”From my parents,
Usually my Dad,
And often, with my brother(s),
Joining in,
(When I was younger);

And this one time,
The situation descending,
Them emotionally turning against me,
It was pure agony,

β€”The very fact they would act to increase my pain,
When I was trying to go to them,
For basic empathy,
And discussion,

β€”It confused, scared and enraged me,
With them interrupting me,
Disbelieving me on basic things,
And I ended up shouting;

Only seconds later,
They’d justify themselves,
Justify those hurtful comments that had provoked me,
By sayingβ€”
They were doing it because I was shouting;

β€”Just point-blank lying;

They’d repeat this sequence,
To family members who’d missed it,
β€”I can’t tell you how many times,
The house was propaganda-ridden;

There was never any basis for me to respect my parents,
I never hugged them,
Couldn’t bear to touch them,
(I still can’t);

Now, to be clear,
I don’t want to say that there is any blame in this,
And if there is,
(If that even makes sense),
I’m not trying to attribute it,

I just had to describe things,
From my perspective;

I now understand that they couldn’t empathise,
Because they seem to be at the other end…
Of the spectrum,

Poor, lonely me at one end,
My family clustered, mainly,
Towards the other;

I understand their such rigid thinking,
From the perspective of autism;

Perhaps the effort to try to empathise,
Created in them such stress,
That they panicked and emotionally fled?

I don’t know,
β€”But everybody suffered,
A huge amount,

They suffered from my outward expressions of anger and terror,
I suffered from their emotional inappropriateness and odd perspectives;

Often theirs were false perspectives,
(Because of the obvious mis-remembering of basic facts,
β€”noticed and validated by other people eventually),

And I can only put this down,
To stress and rigid thinking;

Do I think my parents are ethically bad,
Or morally mis-directed?
Definitely not,
β€”It’s clear, to me,
That they did mean well,

I in fact picked up some useful things,
β€”Such as my functional pragmatic-ness,
And resourcefulness;

Do I have weaknesses myself,
And areas for improvement?
Of course,
I’m always working on those;

Could they find examples of situations,
Where I genuinely was acting inappropriately,
(And unprovoked)?
I’m sure!

And I’ve always been a mischief-maker,
Always with a dark sense of humour,
And sometimes, when younger,
At other peoples’ expense;

I am sure, that oftentimes,
Rigid thinking could not separate mischief from morality,
But that it was all bundled together,
Into a ball of unpredictability,

β€”This was a comment,
Made a few times when younger,
β€”That I was totally unpredictable,
Which was never correct,

They just spoke in a completely different language…

πŸŒͺ

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