Riding The Waves | A Bondi Rescue fanfiction

Chapter 17

A/N: I am so sorry. I promised that I would update every 2 weeks, and now it has been almost 6 months. I have no excuse. School has been crazy and my mental health isn't great but I could have found time to write and update. I didn't realise it had been quite this long. I kept procrastinating writing this chapter and whenever I did sit down to write, something more urgent got in the way. I am so sorry about that. I wish I could promise that it won't happen again, but I don't know if I can promise that. My mental health has to come first though, so updates may remain infrequent. Hopefully, it won't be such long gaps though.

I haven't given up on this story though and I will see it through. If I take months and months to update again, please yell at me in the comments. Comments are really motivational for me because they let me know people are still reading.

On that note, thank you so much for all your support to those of you that have stuck with me. Seeing that people are still reading my book makes me very happy. I distinctly remember being very excited to reach 100 reads. Now I am getting hundreds of reads on each part, along with comments, votes and being added to reading lists. All this has motivated me to keep writing, so thank you.

I hope that this chapter is OK and I promise to update again soon. Thank you.

Also, this chapter contains graphic descriptions of a panic attack, references to self-harm and abuse and intrusive thoughts. I have not personally experienced a panic attack like this, so please tell me if this is inaccurate. I am not trying to upset anyone. Please do not read if this will be too triggering and seek help if you need it. Stay safe. You are loved and valued.

She didn't know what had triggered it. She had a great day at work, calm and happy. Finished her shift, walked into the change room and all of a sudden, Jasmine was drowning.

All the air had been sucked out of the room. She stood for a few moments, hoping that this wave of panic would pass on its own. But instead, the air continued to be vacuumed out of her lungs. She swayed slightly, dizzy from a lack of oxygen.

She was dimly aware that this panic attack was worse than usual. She reached out a hand to touch the wall, flinching as the door slammed closed behind her.

She slid down to the floor, feeling the cold wall scraping against her back. She flinched as the seat jostled against her battered skin, the bruises that she tried to forget about

The walls seemed to shrink in closer. She gasped again, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs. She tried to slow her breathing, but with every exhale, her vision shrunk like her lungs.

She leaned back and slammed her head into the wall, hoping that the contact would distract her, possibly take away the tsunami of panic tugging at her. She fought to keep her head above the waves.

The contact barely registered in her brain, her emotions too far gone to be calmed. Distracting herself with pain was a tactic that she had used before, but it wasn't successful now.

She tried to slow her breathing. Panic attacks were always harder to deal with on her own, but she couldn't possibly ask someone for help. Imagine how much they would judge her if they knew how weak she was! No, they couldn't know.

Jasmine scrambled through her bag, trying to figure out how to calm the racing of her heart. Counting usually worked for her. Going backwards by 7s from 700 was usually enough to calm her down, at least enough to try a different strategy. So she closed her eyes and started softly muttering the numbers. 700, 693, 686, 679, 672 ...

She reached zero quickly, having counted these numbers often enough to be able to do them in her sleep. She closed her eyes and started counting her breathing, trying to fill her strained lungs with oxygen.