L.Williamson ~ panic attack
The tunnel was buzzing with pre-match energy, a cocktail of adrenaline and excitement filling the air. Your teammates were talking amongst themselves, some bouncing on their toes, others adjusting their kits. But for you, the noise, the bright lights, and the weight of your first match back after a year out with your ACL injury were suffocating. You stood at the back of the line, as far from the cameras as possible, your hands clenched tightly at your sides.
The rational part of your brain knew you were ready. You’d worked tirelessly through rehab, pushed yourself in every training session, and passed every test with flying colors. But the fear refused to leave you. What if you weren’t ready? What if your knee gave out again? The what-ifs churned in your mind, each one more catastrophic than the last, and your chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.
You tried grounding yourself, digging your nails into the palms of your hands until the pain cut through the haze. It didn’t work. Neither did the deep breaths you’d been taking, each inhale feeling more shallow and ineffective than the last. Your vision started to blur, black spots creeping in at the edges as the panic clawed its way up your throat.
You leaned back against the cold concrete wall, trying to steady yourself, but the dizziness was overwhelming. You were going to pass out.
Then suddenly, familiar arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you into a solid chest and pressing you firmly against the wall. A hand slid up to the back of your head, gently coaxing your face into the crook of a warm neck, shielding you from view. You didn’t need to look to know who it was. Leah.
Her scent hit you instantly—faint traces of her shampoo mixed with the fresh scent of the kit she’d only just changed into. Her other hand slid to your waist, gripping you firmly but tenderly, grounding you in a way you desperately needed.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Leah murmured, her voice soft and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos inside your head. “You’re okay, baby. Just breathe with me.”
Your hands instinctively found her jersey, fisting the fabric tightly on either side of her waist. The action pulled it free from where it had been neatly tucked into her shorts, but Leah didn’t seem to care. You slipped your hands up under the material just enough to touch her skin, your trembling fingers finding the warmth of her sides. The contact helped, if only slightly.
A choked sob escaped you, and Leah’s hold on you tightened. She moved one hand to rub soothing circles on your back, her fingers pressing gently but firmly. “You’re safe,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your temple. “I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere. Just focus on me, alright? Just me.”
You tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, on the way her fingers moved rhythmically against your back. But your breaths were still coming too fast, your chest heaving as the panic refused to loosen its grip.
“Alright, babe, we’re doing this together,” Leah said, her voice unwavering. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands moving to cup your face. Her eyes locked onto yours, filled with nothing but concern and determination. “Breathe with me, okay? In for four, out for four. Ready?”
You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure you could manage it. Leah gave you a small, encouraging smile before demonstrating. “In,” she said softly, taking a slow, deep breath. “And out.”
You tried to follow her lead, focusing on her eyes, her voice, her hands on your face. The first few attempts were shaky, your chest still tight and unwilling to cooperate. But Leah didn’t falter. She kept going, kept breathing with you, her thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks as she whispered words of encouragement.
“That’s it,” she said as your breathing started to slow, the tightness in your chest easing ever so slightly. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep going.”
Your vision began to clear, the black spots fading as you finally managed to take in a proper breath. The panic wasn’t completely gone, but it wasn’t as all-consuming as it had been moments ago. You let out a shaky exhale, your head falling forward to rest against Leah’s shoulder.
She held you close, her arms wrapping around you again as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “There you go,” she murmured. “I’ve got you.”
You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, Leah’s steady presence anchoring you as the remnants of the panic attack slowly ebbed away. The noise of the tunnel faded into the background, replaced by the sound of Leah’s heartbeat under your ear.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible.
“Hey,” Leah said, pulling back just enough to tilt your chin up so you were looking at her. “None of that, alright? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Leah cut you off with a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re here, and you’re ready,” she said firmly. “You’ve worked so hard to get to this point, and you’re going to show everyone just how incredible you are. I know you can do this.”
Her words, coupled with the conviction in her voice, sparked something in you. You weren’t sure if it was confidence or just the unwavering trust Leah had in you, but it was enough to make you nod.
Leah smiled, her hands gently squeezing your shoulders. “That’s my girl,” she said, her voice warm and proud. “Now, let’s go out there and show them what you’ve got.”
You nodded again, this time with a bit more strength, and Leah kissed your forehead once more before stepping back. She adjusted her jersey where you’d pulled it out of place, shooting you a cheeky grin. “You’re lucky I love you,” she teased, the familiar glint returning to her eyes.
A small laugh escaped you, the sound surprising even yourself. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Leah’s grin widen. She grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leading you back to the line of your teammates.