A Healthy Pair Of Lungs-Personal Narrative

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My heart started pounding against my chest, trying to escape and find a healthy pair of lungs, because mine it seemed had been replaced with those of a six-year-old girl. My mouth grew cold and dry as if the air around me was on the brink of snow. I desperately tried to tell my brain that everything was fine and that there's no need to panic. But my brain ignored me, as it had done many times before, and ordered by organs to keep fighting the against the danger to come. My head never seems to listen to me.
I sat down on the couch, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Here I was a soon to be grown person that can’t even do simple tasks. Laughing calmed me down a little, allowing my lungs to expand a few inches more. I turned on the tv and tried
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That was it. That was the moment I deemed the lowest, realizing that this perpetual fear of small encounters with strangers had to end. I had to be braver, I had to be stronger. I needed to be able to survive if I was ever going to leave my small town, and that's what I wanted more than anything. So day by day I started doing things I didn't want to do, forcing myself to lessen my anxiety. I got a job, which helped me learn to simply be around people without my thoughts exploding. I got new clothes, which helped with my confidence. I learned to shut off the part of my brain that made me feel, for a few moments, so that I could do what I needed to do. I threw my best friend a surprise party, which meant calling vendors and talking to a bunch of her friends who I had never met. My anxiety still comes to consume me at times, but not as much as before. I still dread having to talk to strangers, I hate talking in front of groups, and to this day I'm horrible at small talk. But I can get out of bed and talk to people at work and answer the door for a delivery. I wouldn’t say that I’m brave or strong, but I can survive and that's all that
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