Panic

It's not a dark room, because the dark has always been comforting, it's an empty room with no light and no air. The walls are too close together although you can't see them, you can't even see yourself. There aren't any doors or windows. There aren't any escape routes. You aren't claustrophobic in a physical way, you're claustrophobic in a mental way, your mind needs space to try organise everything but here, in this room there is no space.

The silence is deafening, you can't hear a single sound other than your increasingly rapid breathing and the blood rushing through your body. The silence offers no distractions and you find yourself slipping further into the dark room. Is it even a room? It's more of a dungeon in your own mind, you're held captive there by your own thoughts.

Thoughts. Thousands of them, millions of them, rushing around your head at a zillion miles per hour, then all of a sudden they are right there, still miles away, but you can see them in the darkness. They're getting bigger, closer, no stopping them now. They head straight for you and you hold your breath, close your eyes, the drumming of your heart is surrounding you, taunting you.

Suddenly you're trapped in a glass cage completely submerged in water. You kick, you scream, you lose all sense of calm and rationality. You panic.