I’ve been panicking...

I’m having difficulty breathing. Trying to count but just can’t get the numbers in order. Tears are falling down on the ground without my knowledge nor agreement. Can’t control it.
When I was a wee bit younger, I had this huge poster on my wall, saying: “Hold your breath and count to ten, fall apart and start again.” And that’s what I’ve been doing. Holding. Counting. Falling. Starting. All the time, over and over again. But now numbers don’t make sense. They simply don’t add up. I’m confused. I’m scared. Scared to be, scared to think, scared to start again. Don’t know if I can cope, don’t know how to cope.
Sometimes (most of the time), I wish I were normal, looked like anybody else, was able to go to the beach and sunbathe in a sun. And I pray to the invisible gods every second of my life. Every other second I explain myself that I can’t help the state of things. Nobody can. But I still pray.
I haven’t packed my bags for a very long time. Extremely long. Before here and now, I would change the country of residence every three months. Since I was twelve. Now I’m here and now. And that makes me panic. I’m just not used to...