Hysteria -

It begins not in the throat, but in the hinge of the jaw. A tiny, metallic vibration, like a trapped fly buzzing against a windowpane. You ignore it. You have been taught to ignore it.

The world pulls back like a curtain. Your skin becomes a single, raw nerve. You can feel the spin of the planet. You can hear the blood moving in your own temples—a roaring, oceanic tide. You are not broken. You are too open . Too alive. The sob that finally breaks free is not grief. It is a release valve for a pressure that has been building since girlhood. Hysteria

Afterward, there is the shame. The cold washcloth on the neck. The apology you do not owe anyone. You will be told you are too much . But in the quiet echo of the room, after the shaking stops, you know a secret: Hysteria is not a flaw. It is the language of a body that finally refused to lie. It begins not in the throat, but in the hinge of the jaw

The attack, when it comes, is not a collapse. It is a clarity . You have been taught to ignore it