Bitter Affectionate

Chapter 16

I remembered most of my panic attacks clear as day. The ones I forgot were usually the ones where I passed out from hyperventilating. One thing that stood out in all of them was the reactions of the people around me.

Having anxiety, to the level that I'd dealt with it, was difficult enough when you dealt with it alone. Everyone says that you need to be open and let people help you. But for the most part, other's interference just made everything worse. Except Brents, but that goes without saying.

The schools coach wasn't good with emotions of any kind. Being helpful wasn't his strong suit unless it related to sports or the proper way to wash a jock strap, which was a traumatizing conversation I endured more than once. That was why I was so nervous for practice that evening. I could feel my anxiety building, and I didn't want him to be the one to handle me.

The other guys on the team didn't really get it. The only one who did was Brent. I only hoped I could make it through practice before the inevitable breakdown occurred.

When I first got there, everyone was in the change room. I wore my uniform to practice, so I enjoyed the few moments when the gym was quiet. I made sure my basketball shoes were tied tight and stretched while I waited. I could vaguely hear laughing from the change room. That was normal. Guys don't know how to get dressed without making a comment about someone else's dick. Real mature.

When they all left, coach rounded us up and put us in pairs. He gave each pair a ball and told us to play twenty-ones until he blew the whistle. You could always tell how things were going at home for him by how complicated practice was. Clearly, he was preoccupied today.

I was paired up with Danny, my teammate who spent most of the time warming the benches and fetching waters. I felt bad for the guy. I knew he wanted to play, and he looked like a basketball player, since he was so tall and slender. But he was clumsy. He could hardly dribble, let alone walk while doing it. One time he tried to take a shot and ended up breaking a cheerleaders nose. It was for the best that he sat for the games.

He whooped and hollered every time the ball went into the basket, even though his technique was clearly flawed and he was standing way too close to the net and we weren't keeping score, so it didn't matter anyway. I was too focused on keeping my chest from collapsing to notice how many I got in. I wished I would have been paired with Brent. That way I could voice my problems instead of praying it went away.

Raising my heartrate when I felt this anxious wasn't my best idea. I should have lied and said I felt sick but instead, I took my shots and I jumped and stretched and dribbled more than I had to. I hoped it would get out some of my anxious energy but it just made my heart race faster.

At some point, I was holding the ball in both hands and I could see it trembling. I didn't see the panic coming. I mean, I hadn't had any troubling thoughts all day. But maybe my lack of sleep and... eventful times so far had finally caught up to me.

Without meaning to, I dropped the ball. Danny asked me what was wrong and I didn't answer. I couldn't. I couldn't even catch my breath. The anxiety felt like a million humming birds in my chest, but simultaneously like my ribcage was getting smaller and smaller and crushing my lungs. When I was younger, I was convinced those things were actually happening. Now at least, I know I'm not dying.

I heard squeaking footsteps coming toward me and I knew it was him. He was the only one who would come. Anyone else would watch curiously to see what I did or leave me to deal with it alone. But not him. He always came.

I felt his hand on my back. It was hot, like it was burning me.

"Drew. Are you listening? Can you take a deep breath in?" Brent asked. I felt like I had to squeeze my eyes shut but I wanted to see him. I was convinced it would fix everything.

I tried to do as he told me but I couldn't. I gasped and ended up coughing and shaking my head. He nodded in understanding.

"It's okay. Can you sit down for me?" He asked, though he didn't give me much of a choice. He put a hand under my arm and helped me sit down on the gym floor. I could hear everyone's basketball games continuing. They must be used to my crazy by now.

The sounds in the gym felt so far away, and yet, maximized in volume. They kept echoing inside my skull. It wasn't making my situation any easier.

Brent took my hand and placed it over my heart.

"Can you feel your heartbeat?" He asked. I nodded. It was pounding. Would it rip through my skin? "Try to breathe in. Here, I'll do it with you."

Through the fog, I could hear him suck in a breath, so I did the same. Mine was more shallow and I almost choked on it, but I waited until I heard him exhale to let it out.

"Perfect. You're doing great. Let's do it again, okay?"

We did it twice more until I was almost doing it on my own. Then he asked, "Okay, keep it up."

I tried to do it alone. It felt harder when he wasn't doing it with me. I could hear him typing on his phone. I could hear it ring it. I found it easier to breathe when he was speaking.

"Hey, Mark. No, something's wrong. Just a panic attack, no one died. Can you come get us? No, I don't think he should drive. Okay. Thanks."

He hung up and I heard the phone being placed on the gym floor.

"How are we doing?"

I paused and felt my heartbeat against my hand. It was a little slower. There was still a lot of room for improvement. Still, I nodded as if to say "I'll survive."

"Your uncle is coming," He said. "Can you get up and walk with me?"

For some weird reason, I felt more embarrassed than anything else. I could still feel the anxiety and it was shaking me to my core, but this kind of panic attack was different. It was random. Spontaneous. And I knew everyone would want an answer as to why it happened.

I nodded, but still let Brent help me up and keep his arm stubbornly secured around my waist. We left the gym together.

The halls were empty, so I felt a little less insecure about my sharp inhales of breath. I just wanted to go home.

When we made it to the foyer, we could hear my uncle honking the horn outside. We started toward the door but I turned my head when I heard footsteps.

Joseph was at the end of the hall. He had some tech garbage in his hands that I didn't recognize. He was staring at me. He looked like he wanted to say something.

Brent and I left the school and drove home.