Trigger warning: some scenes might be triggering for people who suffer from Anxiety and Panic Attack
My name is Linda and I was born into a big family. This statement defined me since
childhood. As I am a middle child, it played a big role in who I am today. I’m not the spoiled youngest nor am I the respected eldest. Being a girl too didn’t help. I love my family and even if I hated it as a kid, I now understand how special it is. Four boys and three girls meant that there was no dull moment.
The holidays were awesome. However, being a part of a big family meant a lot of other things as well.
I played by the rules. I didn’t ask for anything. I wasn’t a brat and I aimed to please. Thus, I
was invisible. I wasn’t the smartest nor the kindest nor the strongest. I was plain. I watched my dad treat my older siblings like responsible adults and I watched my mom fawn allover her eldest son and spoil her youngest daughter. Where was I you might ask, I was on the side lines striving to make my parents acknowledge me.
All that changed when I met Ann. Because someone finally noticed me. I have seen her
around a few time before we became buddies. She talked to me a sometimes and her words always made an impact. I was curious about her since she always sparked some questions in my mind and awakened some feelings I wasn’t sure I wanted to explore.
Ann was something else entirely. She was there the first time I had a panic attack.
It was a horrible feeling. My mind raced as I gasped for air, feeling faint by the minute. I
wondered what was wrong with me. Was I getting sick again? I thought. My hands shook and vision blurred. The exam sheet forgotten on my designated table. What should I do? I prayed silently for this to pass but every time I tried to fight it, it only got worse. “Fight it!” Ann whispered, “Don’t let it control you!” Let what control me? I wondered. “Linda, I don’t think you can finish this! Leave before it gets worse!” Ann pleaded urgently. Leave? I couldn’t. I had to finish this! With great effort I managed to scribble a couple more sentences. Just one more question to answer. I felt sick. “God how embarrassing would it be if your breakfast made an appearance here for all the students to see?” she cautioned, “Imagine that happening.” The feelings were getting stronger and stronger until I couldn't take it anymore. Ann was right, I had to leave. Exams be damned. With all the remaining control I had I grabbed the paper sheet and walked to the teacher’s desk. I could feel their questioning eyes on me, I could feel the weight of their stares hating every second of it. I knew what they were thinking, “She’s done already?”
“She must have had a hard time understanding the questions.” “What a loser! She doesn’t
deserve to be here.” “People like her aren’t fit for a school like this.”
“And they are right.” I flinch when I hear Ann’s voice in my head. “You only applied here to
prove a point. You are not fit. Never will be.”
“Mr. Malik, can I go to the restroom? I’m done with the exam.” I asked, managing to keep my voice steady enough. He nodded and let me go. I must have looked as bad as I felt for him to not ask any questions.
The classroom door seemed miles away, the fear that I might not make it out of there before throwing up gripped my mind and squeezed. When I finally made it out of the door, I rushed to the nearest window and breathed the much needed air. My body gave out and I gripped the windowsill to keep myself from falling. What on earth was that? Other than the lethargy, all the other symptoms disappeared as if what happened in there was a figment of my imagination. Shaken to my core I head for the restroom to wash my face.
When I was nearing the classroom. Ann was waiting for me. “Are you sure you are okay?”
she nudged me, “it might start all over again when you go back.” She walked beside me not letting up. “Still ten minutes to go before the bell rings. It’s only a miracle you lasted as much as you did.”
With a heavy heart and heavier feet, I made it to my seat and sat there quietly praying for the ten minutes to be over soon. Little did I know that was only the beginning.
When I went home, I didn't speak of that little episode. I didn’t speak of the second either or the third or fourth. Ann advised against it. “What would your parents think?” she’d say, “imagine if your brothers get a hold of this, you’ll never live it down. They already think you can’t do it.”
Things were getting more intense and crippling until I couldn't just act like nothing was wrong with me. It happened in class, it happened on the dinner table, it happened when I went grocery shopping, when I was cornered in a crowded place. Every time I feared it might happen, it ended up happening. I close my eyes tightly at night and pray for it to go away. I sneak into the medicine cabinet and take medication I am not even sure it can help. I just needed to do something to make it stop. But I couldn’t. there was no hiding it when I couldn’t function anymore as a human being. Ann told me how disappointed she was. She called me weak and I couldn’t argue.
It wasn’t long before I had a bad episode in class and the school had to call my mother to
come pick me up. I stayed in the nurse’s office waiting. Ann rambled next to me. Feelings of self-loathing and embarrassment consumed me and I couldn't meet the nurse's eyes as she asked me if I wanted anything. I just wanted to go home. But when do I get what I want? My mother appeared at the door, her face etched with worry.
“What happened?” she asked the nurse as she rushed in to inspect me, her hands roamed over my face checking for a fever. The nurse relayed what happened with all the mortifying details. I wished for the floor to split and swallow me whole.
“I’m fine, mom.” I muttered and stood up, “I wanna go home.”
“Okay sweetie,” she rushed to help me assuming I couldn't support myself and that only made me feel worse. I hated it when she coddled me. She didn’t stop with the questions all the way to the car.
“She thinks you can’t handle it,” Ann interjected, “why wouldn’t she?” between mom and
Ann, I felt like my head was going to explode. I realized that Ann wasn’t good company. At first I thought she was looking out for me, pushing me to be careful, to protect myself. But now she only tells me what I didn’t want to hear.
I sank in my seat and closed my eyes, hoping we’ll be home soon enough. The hum of the engine was comforting. It reminded me of when my dad used to drive us to see my grandparents. I would sit in the back and close my eyes while listening to dad’s soothing voice. “Dad isn’t here though? You are not a kid anymore. Imagine what he’ll think of you. You keep proving that you are not worth his respect. I mean did you tell him about that F you got?” shut up! Why wouldn’t she shut up?
The car stopped and my mother killed the engine, jolting me out of my memories. I opened my eyes to find out she parked by the hospital. My heart sped up and my breath hitched.
The butterflies in my stomach came back with vengeance. “Oh oh! There will be a lot of people inside to witness your humiliation. That should be fun.” I clenched my teeth at her and looked at my mother barely restraining my panic, “I said I was fine, we don’t need to be here!”
“Passing out in class isn’t fine,” she countered, “We’re going to find out what’s wrong.” I
groaned and got out of the car, slamming the door for good measure.
After a few hours of waiting, I sat with my mother across from the doctor as he proceeded to tell us that nothing was wrong with me, physically. My mom was baffled and distrusting,demanding answers.
“I suggest you take her to see a psychologist,” he scribbled something on his notepad then tore the paper and extended it to my mother along with a small card, “here are the contact details of a good therapist I know, give her this letter and she’ll take good care of your daughter.”
My mother stood abruptly taking the paper and card out of his hand and thanked him. She motioned for me to get up as well and we left his office. As soon as we were alone my mother sputtered. “I can’t believe this guy. A psychotherapist?? You don’t need a psychotherapist! Don’t listen to him! You’re not crazy.”
Except he didn’t say I was crazy. She did. I hung my head and followed her back to the car.
She only proved how right I was to keep it all to myself. How right Ann was.
“What would people think!” she fumed, “the gossip will never end! I knew moving back here was a mistake!” She called my father and I listened to them as they fought and discussed me as if I wasn't there.
“It’s not like they always noticed you.” Ann reminded me, “look at you, you just cost them
money. I thought you were the considerate girl. Do you have any idea how expensive therapy can be? Three of your siblings are in college. Your dad is going to suffer. You should just go kill yourself. That’ll save everybody the hassle.”
“I don’t want to go back to school.” I stated out loud. My mother spared me an annoyed
glance. “Don’t interrupt honey,” she said, “your father and I are talking.”
“I don’t want to go back to school!” I snapped, “I’m not going back to school!” I turned to
open the door when she stopped at an intersection but it was locked.
“Yeah run, it is indeed what you are best at.” I heard Ann’s snarl, she didn’t believe in me.
Why would she? “Coward!”
“Let me out!” I yelled, “I’m not going back! I’m not going back.” I rattled the handle trying
frantically to open it. I couldn’t stay here any longer or I’ll hyperventilate.
“It’s stuffy in here,” that voice again, “don’t you feel like walls are closing in?”
I didn’t realize I was still yelling until my mother pulled me back and slapped my face trying to get my attention. “People are looking.” She singsonged. I started to notice people’s stares, a man knocked on the window. My eyes darted from face to face, they are looking at me, and they are closing up on me. “Yes they are! They are judging you, laughing at you!” I want out. I couldn’t breathe anymore. I barely registered my mother’s hands on my shoulder shaking me, her lips moving but no sound is coming out. I only wanted her to open the door.
When I opened my eyes, I found an unfamiliar ceiling staring back at me. I looked to the side to find my father staring back at me with kind eyes.
“Hey sweetie!” he cooed, “There you are, you got us a little worried huh?”
I averted my eyes in shame, knowing that this will change soon. “Oh it will. It’s not like you
are daddy’s girl.” I’m not going back to school even if they hated me for it. “Yeah you shouldn’t.
Imagine it happened again. I mean people are already talking. Are you ready to face them again?
Hearing whispers and murmurs behind your back, fingers pointing at you. You’re getting
expelled anyway. You’ll do better in a public school I’m sure. Or maybe not, public schools can be brutal.”
“Can we go home?” I croaked, my voice hoarse from all the screaming. I needed to get rid of Ann.
“Not yet, buttercup. We have to see Dr. Nadia first.”
My mother came in announcing that the doctor will see us shortly. Contrary to my father, she didn’t conceal her emotions for my sake. She wasn’t happy. I gave her a scare and that’s another thing to hate myself for. “The list is getting longer and longer.”
Soon enough, a blond woman in a white coat came in with a cheery smile on her face. “You must be, Linda!” she asked. She shook my parents’ hands and then asked if we could speak alone. My parents left the room after giving me reassuring looks. I sat up and looked down at my hands.
“How are you, Linda” she asked as she sat comfortably on the chair besides my bed.
“I’m fine.” I replied matter-of-factly. I spared her a glance to find her eyes settled on me with that infuriating smile still in place. The silence stretched between us awkwardly. “So, how are things going?” she asked again.
“Fine.” Was my reply.
“Okay, can you tell me about what happened in school?” She cocked her head to the side,
waiting patiently. “I.. um..” I stuttered. “What a loser. Can’t even get a word out. I bet she is laughing inside.”
“Go on.” The doctor encouraged.
“I couldn’t breathe. My mind races and I can’t fight it.” I said as I nervously picked at the
hangnail on my thumb.
“Is that happening now?” again with the infuriating smile.
“Sort of.” I confirmed, “milder”
“What are you thinking?” she encouraged.
“I bet you’re laughing inside. What a loser I am.” I confessed and waited for her reaction. She didn’t even flinch though.
“Do you have thoughts like these often?” I nodded, “what else do you think when you get like this?”
“That I am a disappointment. Useless. Coward. I’ll never make it. People will think I was
stupid. They’ll laugh.” That I should kill myself. But I keep that tidbit to myself. I’m not trusting this stranger. I watched her scribble over her notepad and nod ever now and then.
“I assure you that I’m not laughing at you.” She said when I was done, “you might not know
it, but these feelings are not unusual. A good number of people struggle with them every day.
This is where I come in. I’m here to help you. What you are experiencing is what we call
Anxiety. It’s more common than you think.”
“Anxiety?”
“Yes.”
“Anxiety makes me feel like I am having a heart attack?”
“That is a panic attack.” She clarified, “although scary but it is not deadly.”
We talked for few more minutes before she invited my family back in. she prescribed me
some drugs and reassured us that it wasn’t something unmanageable and that I needed to see her on a regular basis. I watched the disapproval in my mother’s eyes and felt the tenseness in my father’s shoulder. But then I watched the doctor leave knowing that I might not have the chance to see her again. I had more questions now that I knew what Ann really was. I needed to know how to get rid of her. My mother came to my side and said, “You don’t need the drugs, they’ll rot your brain.”
“Your mother is right.” My dad agreed, “You need to strengthen your faith, pray to your Creator.
He’s your only savior.” What else do I have to say? I nodded leaned back on the bed.
And that was the last time I saw Dr. Nadia. Ann on the other hand, she was there along the way.
Telling me how I couldn’t make it and how the outside world is a scary place. Just little by little I learned to live with Ann, I learned to push back when I could and retreat when I couldn’t. There were times when I felt strong but there were times when I questioned how I could continue to live. However, life is nothing if not lows and highs. I chose to live for the highs.
-End-
Rabeb Ben Bahry
Rabeb Ben Bahry is a dreamer at heart. Since she was a little girl, she loved reading but she loved creating her own stories most. She grew up on a small country on the southern coasts of the Mediterranean. She loves winter and the sea and she is obsessed with collecting rocks and minerals.
Contact rabeb : rabeb.bahry@gmail.com