nyctophilia | dreamwastaken

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FRIDAY:

When I started to have anxiety, my mom didn't let me get meds at first. She told me that I didn't need them and that I was fine. I was supposed to get stressed and nervous every once and a while, and that was normal. I believed her. That was until I had to get hospitalized.

I remember it vividly. I was stressing over multiple stupid tests, and my friends had just gotten mad at me for something that I promised I was going to do. I was hiding in my girl's restroom, avoiding everyone. My heart was beating erratically, and it felt like I couldn't breathe. To make matters worse, a teacher came inside and caught me.

She called my mom, which resulted in me getting in trouble for no apparent reason. Mom yelled at me for nearly an hour straight, complaining about how I'm never responsible, and threatening me that if I didn't get a good grade on my tests, she would take away a bunch of my privileges. This didn't help with the battle I was fighting inside of me, and a moment later, I completely fell apart.

I remember passing out, feeling as if my lungs were going to keep restricting tighter and tighter. When I woke up, I was in a strange hospital with strange doctors and nurses surrounding me. In the corner, my mom was sitting on a chair, biting her nails nervously. They had told me that I had just suffered an intense panic attack and that I needed to rest for a bit before I can get up.

They informed me that I did indeed have anxiety and that I would be put on meds for it. My mom started to cry loudly, acting as if she were the one who had just suffered a panic attack. I didn't know what was happening, so I went along with it, hoping that it was just a one-time thing. But it wasn't.

It continued to affect me for years and years, to the point where I've grown so used to it that I can sense a panic attack from a mile away. That's exactly how I figured out I was going to have another panic attack the moment I set my phone down. I laid down on the cool ground before I closed my eyes.

I tried my best to stop my shaky hands from moving, counting on my breathing multiple times. With each breath I inhaled, the other one came out shorter. This wasn't working. I needed to erase that image from my head. I quickly got up, ignoring my spinning head as I clambered my way downstairs.

"Niki!" I shout, my voice wavering. I see Niki's head peep up from the couch, her reading glasses on. She frowns immediately, watching as I clutch my chest. "I- I can't-." I stammer, trying to suck in more air. Niki rushes over to me, helping me down the stairs. "Shh... it's okay, count to ten with me." She soothes, rubbing my back.

I cough once before counting along with her, squeezing my eyes tightly. My body feels as if it's constricting onto itself, and my brain feels mushy and rock solid at the same time. I let out a shaky breath as Niki murmurs to me. "What happened y/n?" She asks quietly, rubbing slow circles.

"Twitter... someone posted a picture-." I pause, trying to stop the flow of tears. Great, just my fucking luck of having two panic attacks in one day. Niki quickly pulls up Twitter, shielding my vision away from her phone. She gasps when she sees it, and immediately, she sets her phone down.

"I will sort this out, I promise you. Whoever thought that this was a funny trick will regret it." She harshly promises, and I let out a choked noise. "The only person who could have- have taken that picture is..." I let my sentence trail off as I inhale another short breath of air. Niki murmurs more soothing words in my ears, and I try my best to calm myself down.

"That piece of shit. I'll talk with the police and make sure that-." "No!" I interrupt, pulling away to look up at Niki. She glances down at me, protectiveness clear in her expression. "I just want to take down that photo without having to involve the police or whatever. Please, I don't want it to be a big thing." I beg, my heart wrenching with fear and desperation.