The Rants and Thoughts I am Chained To.

Panic vent.

TW: Panic attacks, cursing, unhealthy way of managing panic attacks, slight threat,
(Lmk if a trigger warning is missing)

I thought I'd seen bad panic attacks before. They're nothing new to me. I hyperventilate, maybe cry, lock down, struggle to speak, dilated pupils... things of that sort. You know. What you normally see in a panic attack.

But oh boy, was this latest one worse.
It started out normal, with slight tears, barely speaking, struggling to function well. I thought it'd be easy to get over.
Nope.
Eventually, I was curled in a ball, crying my heart out and screaming shamelessly - hell, even some snot got onto my shirt.
I was a mess for a good while.
I'd never seen myself get so worked up. It scares me to think of the possibility that a panic attack like that could happen again.
And it was over food. ARFID really was throwing a fit, it seemed. Gods, that food, I hated it.

My parents handled it the best they could. Yknow, saying some reassuring things and giving gentle rubs. Well, it didn't help because sound felt awful to listen to, and touch was like cacti was rolling all over me. But at least they were trying. If I could've told them to stop, I would've. I physically couldn't make myself, I was too stuck in my crying and screaming to make any coherent thought.
At one point, I screamed for them to stop touching me. I sounded scared and panicked, as if their touch was bad. It was to me at the time.

Looking back, their "reassuring phrases" sounded like orders. "Calm down," "Listen to me," "it's okay," stuff like that. They got more and more firm with their orders. I get they got stressed and they didn't know how to handle this, but for fuck's sake, they didn't help.

What chilled me to the bone was when my parents gave me a parachute med. My parachute meds are supposed to calm me down during a panic attack.
I refused them at first, but the sentence my dad said made me immediately take it.
"We're being nice here. If you don't take the parachute, we're going to have to take disciplinary action." I'd never heard him use such a stern, annoyed tone at me before.
He literally said, "Now, we know it (disciplinary actions) won't help-" BUT DESPITE THIS, HE DIDN'T TAKE BACK THE "disciplinary action" thing.
What a good idea, threaten a child who's having a panic attack! What can go wrong?

I don't know if I'm being dramatic or something, but I just needed to vent.
I just wish I could've calmed down, voice my struggles, and not cry like a fuckin whiny baby. What's so wrong with me to make me lose all common sense the second I'm scared?