12:00 am. It's dark but my led lights are still on. The colors of the rainbow fade in and out that slowly turn into a blurred array of colors as pools fill in my eyes. My Alexa is on the loudest setting playing music to drown out the tornado of distorted memories in my head. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling wondering how I got to this point. The rain flowing down my face from the storm that just started as I struggle to swim and the water continues to rise. My room starts to spin as the hurricane of good and bad memories ricochet off one another.  The tsunami of emotions that race faster and faster with my breathing as I start to hyperventilate. My heart races as I try to grasp the moment that starts to slip from my fingers as I disassociate. How did it get to this point? It's moments like this when I wish I was normal. Normal like the people who have never felt the extremes of the weather. Normal like the people who bathe in the overwhelming joy of the sun and don't get sunburn. Normal like the people who are able to stay afloat even when it rains. Normal like the people who have never experienced the hurricanes or tornadoes that make you overanalyze all good times you have until they are mangled and disfigured. Normal like the people who have never had tsunamis that flood you with emotions that overwhelm you. Normal and happy. After the tsunami passes over I'm able to finally grasp the moment. I struggle to swim to the top as the anchor of disassociation and the overwhelming aura of my emotions try to drag me to the bottom. When I make it to the top I begin to catch my breath and wipe away the tears. My hands smothered with smeared mascara and “waterproof” eyeliner. Maybe one day I'll be normal and be able to feel the rays of glee left by the sunny weather without getting sunburned by overthinking. Until then I will just continue to pull myself out of the evasive fog of emotions of my panic attacks.