Anxiety attacks and I'm f@#$king losing

Grab the pen. Find the ink. Get it out before it gets in.

Night comes peacefully. Pike snores at the end of the bed as Peep Show coaxes gentle giggles from my throat. It’s coming, but I ignore the signs. Christmas lights leave a beaded trail across the television, Robert Webb falls in love again. If my inner monologue could be half as honest as Mark and Jez, perhaps I’d be able to keep the heat in.

My journal spreads herself open across my pufferfish squishmallow. It’s pouty mouth are a mirror, reflecting the opposition always lurking on my lips. Sage leather sinks into soft amarillo, a hummingbird gem flutters one eye as ink bruises my right wrist. I contemplate what meal to feed the page.

Wretched winds wreck outside the metal home, wracking bells and loose windows. I can feel the weight swinging in my lungs, shaking the visca between fat and bone.

Suddenly, I’m not alone.

A name I dare not speak peeks around trembling corners, and I beg my mind to look away.

Grab the pen. Find the ink. Get it out before it gets in.

My palms trip over my incessant indecision as surreal understanding creeps through my veins. The acid swimming beneath the surface is proof the split is coming; and I’d bite my stubborn flesh if it meant I could suck out the poison . All teeth ever taught was bleeding. Now, I've got my tapping, and meditation. Even my journal wide before me.

But it's still coming.

And it's getting faster.

I know what this means. Whispers tremble from the keys hanging at the door, tasting my anxious breath through the ether. Groans grow with ample anticipation. The swell in my breast is beating harder than the wind, reminding me there is no doubt of what’s to come next.

In a moment, my car keys will moan as my desperate fingers wring around their neck.

In a moment, I’ll be gone and happy to forget.

My eyes spin in their sockets, my hand dribbles across the naked page. Pirouetting until the handwritings change: gently rolling cursive to rocky road print. I watch myself lose and become in real time.

The skin feels larger now, something I own but cannot fit. I wear my identity like a poorly tailored knit or bell-bottoms falling at the hip. Love hangs around my neck like jewelry: always ready to switch.

Dragging a scythe between my eyes, I wonder what I would say if I could turn around. If just before she went away, I could tell her what it means to lose her; perhaps living in this misfit body would make sense. If I could ask her not to go, reassure she doesn’t need to run, perhaps love could be the thing that survives us.

---

Goodnight Stella, Good Morning Dread, 2025.

by Claudia Jean. Original digitally charmed through a chrome keyboard. Substack collection.

Building up the tension felt as a panic attack overwhelms the body, this piece only sets out to name it. Avoiding the questions of why or how or what for, we ask instead what happened?

A few nights ago, Claudia had a panic attack during an alter switch. As we become more aware of our stellas and system, we have been able to feel switch between stellas into a new fronting perspective. We captured a few moments of it in a notes post we shared:

We’re used to switching between Alya (host) and Claudia (poet stella), but there are parts of us that are still too hurt. They are the two most closely fused, though. However, not all of our stellas are copacetic with fusing or cohabitating. When those stellas switch to the front, the world caves in on itself.

We swallow ourselves and wait for the abyss to let go again.

Thank you for reading!

If you want to support me, please consider getting Pike a treat or buying my book! If you’re here for the vibes, keep reading to check out the following:

• A quick glossary of Dissociative Identity Disorder terms

• Spotify playlist updated weekly of songs that relate to my DID experience

• Memes

D.I.D Glossary

Hi! I’m Alya, also known as Claudia, or Lyru. We have Dissociative Identity Disorder. If you read this post and aren’t familiar with some of the terms or experiences, don’t fret! Here is a non-comprehensive list of subject knowledge and vocabulary:

• Dissociative Identity Disorder or DID is a mental condition characterized by the presence of two or more distinct personality states or alters that take control of an individual's behavior.

• Host may also be referenced as the body or physical person with DID.

• Alters is the term used to reference the distinct personalities or parts of a person with DID. However, I refer to my alters as STELLAS.

• Fronting refers to the alter/stella that is currently managing the mind and body.

• Switch or switching refers to process in which a host moves from one alter to another.

• System refers to all alters/stellas present in a host.

Goddamn, right. You should be scared of me.

Who is in control?

Hello, I’m not so bad. Bet I can make you laugh.