I try to remember to start breathing again.
I try to remember the good times, times when I didn’t feel all strung out and agitated.
I try to listen to upbeat music, and sometimes, if no one is listening, I even sing along.
I go and smoke a cigarette and concentrate on the feeling of the smoke in my lungs because it’s different than the pain I feel.
I look at stupid pictures of cats doing stupid things, because it helps take my mind off of what’s going on.
I try to remind myself of all the shitty things that have happened in my life and how I knew at the time that I’d never get through them, but I did.
I remind myself of all the times I tried, and succeeded.
I remind myself that I have a whole crew of people standing behind and beside me, pulling for me, cheering me on.
I try to remember that this, too, shall pass.
But mostly I remember to start breathing again.