Gemotions

The constant drumming of the rain against the windowpane mirrored the insistent pounding in my head. I stared at the fish tank my roommate, Ben, had proudly assembled in the corner of the living room. The colorful gravel, the bubbling filter, the fake coral all felt suffocating.

"They're so calming," Ben said, gesturing towards the swimming fish. I could barely breathe. The thought of sharing my space with another living being, however small, was overwhelming. My body felt heavy, immobile. I pictured the constant need to feed them, to clean the tank, to be mindful of their existence.

The walls of the apartment seemed to close in, the air growing thick and heavy. I felt a desperate urge to break free, to run, to escape this… this situation. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I felt nothing but a powerful, immobilizing anxiety.