Panic Attack
The news was pretty much always unkind to trans people like you. You knew this and tried not to look at the news or current events very often for the sake of your mental health but this morning you stare at your phone, and once you open social media the floodgates open. Your gut gets a pit feeling as you read some of the posts and articles and the feeling gets worse and worse as you read. As people start to call trans people less than human, or that you all deserve to never go in public again and to stay away from children. The articles get worse and worse and people higher and higher up continue to make comments about your community. The subway stops and you exit, putting your phone away and feeling awful.
You spend the rest of the walk to work in a bit of a trance. You know it’s likely to ruin your day. You can’t help it.
“You okay?” Karen asks you gently. You pull at your shirt feeling a bit dysphoric.
“I guess,” you respond.
“What’s up?” Karen inquiries.
You shrug. “I was reading the news this morning and they’re always very unkind to people like me,” you say.
“Ah.” Karen pauses before responding “ The news thrives on outrage. As much as I want to tell you that it’ll get better; I don’t know if it will. But I hope that things do improve.” She says.
“Thanks.” You whisper before getting to work.
You still can’t shake it the next few hours. You tried to focus but couldn’t and you spent the next few hours in a daze, feeling spacy.
“Shit shit Shit shitshitshit” you mutter to yourself, feeling a panic attack coming up something you weren’t a stranger to. You let out a panicky, desperate breath as you try to control yourself- as you try to hold in your panic attack. You didn’t want to do this in public, and not in front of your friends. But the harder you try to fight it, the worse it gets and you succumb to total panic.
It’s all too much. You make a few desperate gasps for air but no air goes to your lungs.
Matt hurriedly scurries up to you after hearing your panic. “Hey kid.” you hear him say. “You need to take a deep breath.”
But you can’t.
It’s too much.
Tears stream down your face. You feel like you’re going to choke. You can’t breathe. “I can’t” you croak out, before wheezing.
“You can. Just focus on trying. You’re okay.” Matt assures.
But you don’t feel okay. How the hell was this okay??
“I can’t” you confirm.
“I promise you can. Breathe with me, okay? In…. and out…” Matt responds. You let out a very shaky breath.
“Good. Try to breathe with me, okay kid? In…. and out…… In…. and out….. Good job.” Matt encourages.
You don’t understand why Matt was being so patient with you, and you don’t know why Matt was even still around you. You start wheezing again and take more desperate gasps for air, feeling starved for air. You can’t breathe. It was worthless trying to. You were going to die. Oh my god, you were going to die.
Matt grabs one of your hands and sets it on his heart. “Feel my heartbeat, okay? And breathe with me. In…. and out…. Good. Don’t try to fight it, okay? Breathe with me and try to relax” His chest rises and falls as he exaggerates his breaths for you.
When the panic lingers a bit after a few minutes of breathing with Matt, you feel drained and empty. Matt, Foggy, and Karen all look concerned for you. You just want to hide away.
“I’m sorry.” you apologize.
“Nothing to be sorry for, kid,” Matt responds.
“Do you get those often?” Karen prods gently.
You nod “Sometimes.”
“Feel any better now?” Matt asks.
You only shrug in response.
“ ‘M just tired,” you whisper.
“Let's get you home,” Karen says, grabbing your hand, and leading you out the office door.
You spend the rest of the journey home in a tired daze, Karen guiding you back to your place. Once you arrive you barely have time to thank her before you fall asleep, exhausted.
Once you fall asleep, Karen shoots a text to Foggy and Matt that you’re okay and sleeping before she leaves, with a whispered “Goodnight, Y/N”