⛔ Mental Health Warning

Mosquitoes, Period Cramps. and Surviving a Panic Attack

Life is so not epic. Like, I had expectations with my Wattpad publication, which might be my biggest flaw, I just expect too much of the world.

I'm insginificant. I'm a moskito. How many lives can a moskito affect? How many wars can it stop? I fly aimlessly and the inmensity around me proves my fragility.

I always try too hard. Failure is the one constant thing in my life.

I'm the end of all the good things. I suck. I haven't done anything relevant in my life. I feel so lonely.

This is the exact pattern of thoughts I have every day when I wake up.

So, when I feel the soft carpeted-floor against the soles of my feet, I feel like someone should give me an award for deciding to get up in spite of the armageddon that dwells inside of me.

And I complain about no one giving me the award. I just wish I could let those who suffer like me know that it is an incredibly epic thing for you to get up from your bed every day. Especially, when you are struggling with anxiety, depression, a not-passing mark, or the lack of notifications on your phone.

Even if no one notices, in my most humble opinion, it's pretty epic.

Sighing, I look at the screen on my phone. I only have three notifications from Wattpad, which proves that I'm too catastrophic for my own good. At least, some people wrote a few changes, but there are still so many characters in there. I feel powerless. I wish I could do more.

As aware as I am that they need their stories to change, I also understand that I need to change. It's pointless to spend my energy changing someone else's fate while neglecting my own. I owe my dad and my mom that. I need to do this for them and also for myself.

So, carrying the armageddon of my anxiety and depression impaled firmly and painfully through my chest, I stand up and decide to go to university today.

The minute I step into the bathroom, my lower stomach clenches painfully because, of course, it's that time of the month. This is just my luck.

Exhaling heavily, I look above towards the cealing.

"Can you please make things easier for me, just for once?"

No answer.

🔸🔸🔸

Sneaking into my flower-printed jacket, I open the door.

"Sunset!"

Turning around, I find my dad. 

"Hey, honey." He looks at me sheepishly.

"Hi, dad..."

Silence stretches between us as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets.

"I'm so-"

"I'm sorry too, dad," I interrupt him, "I'm so sorry about everything."

His arms engulf me in a warm, cologne-scented hug. On my toes, my arms drape around him, pressing him tight against me.  

"I'm sorry too, baby."

"I'm going to university right now. I think I haven't given myself the chance to try," I admit.

"That's great. But I talked to Sheila."

Detaching myself from him, I stare, waiting for information to be unfolded.

He clears his throat. "She said you guys can video call. She says she can help you a lot. With everything that happened, and moving here, I just didn't realize we had left that behind."

Smiling, I reply, "I didn't realize therapy could help me so much. I'm happy to start. Thanks for trying to understand. Life gets really hard sometimes..." 

He nods, a sad smile washing over his face. "I'm trying to understand, Sun. I know it's harder than I think, that's for sure. , I was too hard on you. It's okay if you can't go to university."

Something loosens around my chest. I want to go to university but the fact that he says this feels so liberating to me.  "I will try my best and let you know if I can't deal with it."

He chuckles, placing burying his hand in his back pocket. "I have a present for you. Something that I hope helps you live through the day." He squints an eye at him.

Holding an envelope in his hand, he waves it in front of me.

"What's that?" Excitement bursts through my chest.

Slowly, he opens it, his eyebrows wiggling at me. Then, I see it.

"I heard there was this Harry Styles concert...And I manage to get-"

I snatch the envelope out of his hands. My fingers fumble to see the tickets.

"Oh my God!!!" I scream. "Oh my God!" I repeat. My arms fly around my dad's neck and I cling to it with my feet on the air. "Thank you so much. This is just so amazing!"

"Thank God!" he sighs in releif. "I thought your 1D's phase was over."

"Dad, girls never get over Harry Styles." I roll my eyes at him.

"Well, I'm glad you like this. I wanted to give you something to be happy because I know you are struggling, I don't say it, but I see it."

I hug him tighter. His words make me happier than the tickets.

"There is a minor condition..." he trails off.

"I knew this was coming." I unhook myself from him and cross my arms.

"You have to take Dawn with you. You can use the other tickets to take some friends with you. Maybe Raiden can take you. I don't know. It's up to you." 

"Thank you, dad. This means a lot to me." I smile with my eyes trained on the tickets.

I close the door and I already feel that I'm going to stomp over my anxiety.

🔸🔸🔸

So, yeah. No. My encourgement simply faded away. It lasted until Raiden parked his car and left to his class.

In...

...Out.

In...

...Out.

Nop. Breathing techniques are not helping. On top of that, I think I've definitely got my period now because my lower stomach is twitching with cramps every three minutes.

The walls of my throat shrink. My heart races. My sight blurs. My palms sweat.

No, there is not a serial killer after me, but it feels like there is. And these calming techniques suck at calming me down. Do they even work?

I am irrationally scared and I know it, that's why reason can't help me this time.

The sun shines, the birds sing, the world around me is fine, everything is calm around me, but not inside of me. Inside of me is the opposite.

Blue.

Yellow.

Grey.

Green.

The colors around me.

No. Color naming is not helping either.

I retreive my water bottle from my bag and drink some of it. Focus on the senses, Sunset. I close my eyes as the water travels down my throat towards my stomach. I focus on the chattering around me, the sirens of an ambulance, the horn of a car, an annoyed driver shouting.

FUck this. Nothing helps. My chest heaves up and down. When you are at the peak of a panic attack, nothing helps. People don't get that.

I'll just have to go through the doors. I won't die if I go through them. My dad, my...my mom will still be proud of me if I fail, and I drop my academic life and become a youtuber or even a blogger.

Everything will be okay.

Bullshit.

I try to swallow as my palm presses the huge glass door of the university.

The door won't open.

"Hey, let me help you with that." Lukah grabs the door handle and pulls it towards us. Then, he smiles and gestures me to go in.

Was it that easy? Only now I notice the "PULL" sign.

I remain frozen there for a long second and then I go in.

And I'm still a alive.

"Have a great day, Sun." Lukah winks an eye at me and he walks away. God, the guy is just perfect.

I sigh and my mind overjoys in the stillness that it feels now that I finally came in.

Last time I was here, I came to listen to my mother's TED talk. And after that... we had the accident.

I sit down in my classroom. Right at the back where no one can see if I panick again.

I am attending a class I'm not supposed to attend, by the way. I should be studying Bromatology but I want to change my major. After seeing how deep and meaningful the lives of characters may be, I have realized that I want to study literature. Although I hate that my mom studied here, I decided not to judge myself so hard for that.

What if some parts of my story are worth repeating? Like this, for instance.

So I'm doing a class called Post-colonial Studies right now, which was super cool because it deals with literature that resists the ideas imposed by the empire. The teacher talked about something called 'epistemic violence', that is violence imposed in the words we read.

I needed this. I sigh as I stuff my copybook inside my bagpack.

The class lasted two hours and a half,  but by the end, it feels like only ten minutes have passed.  

I leave the classroom and I feel this sense of accomplishment bursting in goosebumps all over my body.

I did it.

I never thought that living and panic attacks could coexist, that's why I stayed home or at the library. But if I can manage to live in spite of how I feel—I smile to myself— I can do anything in life. Like, literally. I can beat this anxiety shit. I hate that I have thought for so long that not facing the situation was easier. I mean... it was, but if I would have kept myself safe at home or at the library I would have never experienced this. I would have never known that I had a chance to overcome this, that I could do life, and anxiety attacks wouldn't kill me in the meantime.

I smile sheepishly as I walk through the corridors of the university. I finally find a bathroom and I slide the door open. My stomach cramps are killing me.

My combat boots squeal against the floor beneath them as I stop bluntly on my tracks.

Double crap.

Dean... and Camille.

They are kind of arguing, kind of making out. It's a weird and shady situation to be completely honest. I'm not sure of what is it that they are doing. Their eyes lock with mine and a sudden heat invades my cheeks.

Is he hurting her? Why is he in the girls' bathroom?

Crap. I should just leave. Or shouldn't I?