We Met In Detention ✓

Eight | Panic Attacks

~Harry's POV

I've always had mental health issues and it's no surprise. I recently went to a GP in the summer when Vernon took my aunt and cousin away on holiday. I'm always left home alone during the summer. 

Anyway, I had seen things on Aunt's phone about mental health awareness and I looked up symptoms to all of them. I had symptoms to quite a few of the ones I looked up.

I wasn't allowed to go anywhere but not knowing about what I may or may not have was killing me, so I snuck out. The doors were locked over the summer, whilst I was in them, but I could go out to do gardening, as that was a chore on the long list I got each year.

I snuck out of my empty house to visit my GP and we talked. 

Apparently I had depression, anxiety, anorexia and C-PTSD. My GP only knows that I was abused when I was younger and that I'd moved away and was safe now. I couldn't tell him I was still being abused otherwise they would call the police. 

He was surprised that I went to a GP by myself, but he wasn't legally allowed to say anything due to a doctor-patient confidentiality.

I wasn't really surprised by the four mental health disorders I had. 

Depression was obvious considering I was always low, I didn't enjoy things nearly as much anymore and having bad eating + sleeping habits. 

Anxiety was not as obvious but wasn't surprising. I would never be able to concentrate, I would overthink constantly and I always feel anxious and scared. I rarely feel safe.

Anorexia was the most unsurprising. I rarely eat and when I do I force myself to throw up. I exercise a lot since I'm usually trapped in a cupboard. I'm small enough to exercise in there. And no matter what I look like I will always think I'm ugly and fat.

C-PTSD was surprising but not that surprising. I've been abused since I can remember and anything violent or people shouting trigger flashbacks of when I've been abused. 

I wasn't happy that I was mentally ill.

They're just another four reasons why I don't deserve love.

Now here I am, crouched into the corner of the bathrooms, pulling my hair. My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest and my lungs feel trapped. I feel like I can't breathe and that the floor is going to give way and-

"Harry, listen to me. You're not alone, you're not dying. You're just having a panic attack."

"I can't- I can't breathe." I choke out whilst tears spill down my face.

"I want you to try and match my breathing, yeah?" The voice says and loudens his breathing. "In," I copy. "Out."

"Keep on going, Harry, you got this." I continue to copy the stranger's breathing. 

Once my breathing steadies, the person starts to talk again. "Right, look around. What do you see?"

I look up, but my vision is still clouded by tears. "I c-can't see anything." 

"That's okay. What do you hear?" 

I stay quiet for a few seconds. "I hear your breathing and mine." 

"Good, good. What can you feel?"

I move my hands around until they meet each other. "I feel my hands," I then reach out for my shoes. "And my shoes." 

"That's amazing. What can you smell?" 

I stay quiet again and focus on what I can smell. "I smell... toilets." I scrunch my face up in disgust. The toilets smell horrible. 

The person laughs. "Now tell me what you can taste." 

"I taste um my saliva? And salt." I reply, laughing ever so slightly. 

By now my vision has cleared more, but my glasses were stained by tears.

"Can you see now?" 

I nod. 

"Good, now last but not least, tell me what you can see."

I take a breath and look around. "I can see sinks, doors, the floor, walls," I look up, "And you." I hug the person who is no longer a stranger.

"Thank you Dudley." 

"It's no problem Harry. Couldn't let you have a panic attack alone, now, could I?" He hugs me back. "Besides, you're like a brother to me, even if we're biologically cousins."

"By blood or not, you're still my brother- and you're the best one ever." 

Now that I think about it, Jack was a bit daft, thinking that my bruises that I kept getting for weeks would go away in one night. It was risky, my plan. But it worked and ...

And I had to push away Jack.

I loved him, I think. The first boy I've loved in a non-friendly, non-brotherly way. 

It's been ages since I've gone to school. Ages.

I asked Vernon to pull me out of school the day I broke up with Jack. I told him that he was onto the abuse and I was taken out immediately. 

Dudley's still friends with Jack, and Jacob, Caleb and Gary of course. He's been telling me everyday about how they miss me. Jack hates my guts now, which was the plan.

He's smarter than he lets on, and he was going to figure out I was being abused eventually. He noticed the way I winced every time he grabbed my wrists. He was going to find out everything and no one outside of this house needs to know about what goes on inside.

Jack still was a bit stupid about the bruises and makeup situation. But he's blinded by anger now, so he won't find out any time soon.

But anyway, tomorrow's my birthday. There was a whole letter situation, so Vernon decided to go on a trip.

I'm curious as to why he was so adamant on me not knowing what was inside the many letters in our house, but I decided to leave it alone. Just so he doesn't hurt me more.

I'm sure everyone knows my story now. What's happened in my life. I'm a wizard, I go to Hogwarts, I've fought the Dark Lord four times and that I'm an excellent quidditch player.

Everyone knows that part, just not what happens at home over the holidays. No one can tell anyway, because of my glamour. 

But now that I've had my trial for being let back into Hogwarts, I feel like things are about to change... A lot. 

But I don't know if it's going to be for the better, or for worse.