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Today, I watched an absolutely fabulous musical juggling performance. Vincent de Lavenère juggled, danced, sang, played flute and lute, and did tongue-twisters in French, sometimes at the same time. I was enraptured, suddenly reduced into a gaping child in a circus. It felt like IDR 20k was too cheap a price for a full hour of sorcery.

But before all that, when I was still waiting in queue to enter the auditorium, stuck in the middle of a crowd, it was slightly hard to breathe. I remembered the episodes of panic attacks I had in March and I wondered, would I forever be afraid of crowds? Would I ever be able to walk in a crowded place again without continually calculating an escape route?

It is a terrifying thought, but it was one easily pushed away by the performance. Now, though, with the lights on and the music off, it haunts me again, along with other equally fearsome thoughts. What if I don’t get the job I’m applying to or I get the job but I fuck up? What if I don’t pass my B2 test? What if I do, but then the language withers away in my mind because I stop using it? What if my life continues to be mediocre? What if my life does not continue? Can I please not continue my life?

All that combined with how heavy my body is in the mornings and how much I dread my classes because, finally, we have reached a point in which the lessons are truly difficult for me, makes it even harder to continue. My mind is a crowd, and it turns out that an incorporeal crowd suffocates me just as easily a physical one does.

But then, I went to the supermarket yesterday and it was crowded and I was mostly fine. I’ll take that small victory.

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