Trigger Warning: this chapter is about you , the reader, having a anxiety attack and dealing with it. Also talks about depression, so if you are sensitive to those things, just giving you a heads up. Ps: the anxiety attack is triggered by rejection of friends
TW p. 2: I am voicing a lot of the internal thoughts that I have during anxiety attacks, so there's a warning for that too. They get pretty nasty
I am basing this attack of what happens to me when it gets bad, but I'm me and if you get panic, or anxiety attacks, you probably have a different reaction and attack and different ways of handling it. I'm just writing what I know.
~~~~~
You were sitting in a little café on the street corner, minding your own business, sipping your hot beverage and people watching. Enjoying a relaxing, lazy Sunday morning. Watching people as they bustled about, going to visit their grandpapy, maybe meeting their potential soul mate for the first time, or just going about their daily routine was something that you enjoyed imagining.
Sitting in a reclusive spot by the window let you go unseen by most everyone. Blissful silence came with invisibility, letting you soak in conversations going on around you and listen for the bell to ring, signaling the arrival of more people.
A prolonged ringing-to-door-closing period drew your attention, as that meant the arrival of a group, which was always better people watching material. Though when you saw the group, it wasn't the fact it was a group that caught your attention. It was a group of your friends that had entered the café. Hoping they would notice, you raised your hand and waved it at them, and tried getting their attention by calling out their names. Either they didn't see you or they were ignoring you, you couldn't tell. Whatever it was, they didn't acknowledge you and kept chatting. Thinking they just couldn't hear you, because it was a coffee shop on a Sunday morning, it's going to be packed with people and loud with their voices, you were going to try to get their attention again when they were at the pick up station, as it was closer to where you were sitting and they were more likely to see you.
When they got to the station, you were just about to get up and say hi, when you heard their conversation.
"OMG! We had such a fun time at that concert! I couldn't hear for a week afterwards. We should do that again sometime."
Concert? What concert?
"Yeah! They were amazing to hear live. Listening to 'Uma Thurman' live is liking having the best sex in your life with the hottest person ever."
Uma Thurman? They went to see Fall Out Boy without me? Why? They know I love FOB. They are supposed to be my closest friends. Are they excluding me on purpose? Or did they just forget? If they are already forgetting me, maybe they don't want to be friends anymore. Maybe they are just too polite to say anything. Maybe they truly just forgot. But what if they didn't. What if--
Falling back in your seat before you even finished getting up, head reeling from the dizzying speed of your thoughts. You felt your chest begin to burn, your throat tighten to the point it became a struggle to breathe normally without choking back tears. Your eyes began to prickle and burn in response to your throat getting tighter. Knowing what was happening and what came next, a speedy exit stage left was needed tout suite. You grabbed your bag and drink in a blind grasp and dash for freedom from the stifling social situation brewing in the café.
Dashing through the crowd, you made as quick a beeline home as someone having an anxiety attack in the morning rush could. Fumbling with your keys at the door to your complex, your mind, no longer distracted by getting through the throngs of people, went down the overthinking rabbit hole, worsening the attack. You were so close to breaking down in tears and the judging eyes of passerby's really wasn't helping. You felt them judging you, a sniveling broken little girl who couldn't even handle getting into her apartment without breaking down into tears. Finally getting the right key into the lock and turning it, you ran up the stairs to your landing. Making a mad dash to your door, trying in vain to get to the privacy and comfort of your peaceful apartment as quickly as you could. Again fumbling with the keys, why did you have so many keys? You have more keys than friends, close friends you could rely on to not forget you. Why did they forget to invite you to the concert. It's just some stupid concert for your stupid favorite band, you shouldn't be getting all worked up over such a stupid fucking concert. God, you are such an embarrassment to others, no wonder they didn't invite you. Look at yourself. You are such an embarrassment, you can't even get your fucking door open.'
