#feels like the physical symptoms of a panic attack but i don’t necessarily feel anxious

[scenedenial]

dr cut my lexapro dose and now i’m violently shaking and my limbs and head feel like cement … hmmm 🤔

[dramaphan]

Fuck it I’m just gonna live react in bullet points until I get bored

•I know I’ve already read the intro but I’m reading it for real this time and it. It do be sounding like a vegan cyclists Instagram caption here and there. I keep waiting for him to tell me that despite all these bad things he’s talking about, he learned how to eat fruit and now he feels better. I gotta remember which oh my god as I was typing this I got an Adrian notification how did he know

•(absolutely horrifying please don’t search) Dan I guarantee the only people reading this book have already seen hello internet shut up

• “the pressure it put on my personal life was too big to handle” should I start an ‘I wish he would elaborate on that’ counter? Fuck it. 1

•I don’t know why I had convinced myself that this mf started therapy in like 2014 because it’s seeming like that didn’t happen until post tatinof. Interesting

•man does anyone remember that old picture that used to circulate with photos of like 20 youtubers and they all had a label like “bullied in school” or “abused as a child” or “eating disorder” and the whole point was to say “hey your faves are people who have been through some shit” but then you get to Dan’s and his was just “college dropout” as if that was the biggest issue he’d ever had. If only we’d known, eh

•man I really get some sort of icky feeling at that last line in the intro. “If laughing at my pain can make it easier for you, I’m happy to. I’m used to it” like I don’t know why that’s bothering me so much but I’m bothered.

• “I’m not an expert. I’m just a guy with a laptop and a story” yeah we know that’s why we’ve been giving you so much shit about making a book instead of a video 💀

• “it’s up to you to take what is contained in this text and apply it to you and your life” absolutely not gonna do that king

• “we can feel depressed or anxious without having serious diagnosable disorders” oh man you mean to tell me that sometimes things that are a symptom of something are also normal behaviours that don’t necessarily mean anything? Wild.

• “mental health problems aren’t some sort of badge of honour and suffering isn’t aspirational” go off king fuck anti recovery bitches

•I’m on page 36 and I’m starting to get bored already I’m really trying to push through this first section come on you can do it

•blah blah eleventh dimension blah blah brain lasers blah blah

•damn he really do mention menopause in this bitch

•”six million years ago when we were stressed apes” is doing something to me this is the first funny thing he’s said

•”primordial fish brain” alright fine he’s funny I guess

•I’m never not going to find it hilarious that he talks about nervous shits in the first few pages that’s genuinely the only thing that I’m ever gonna remember about this book

• “based on what I’ve seen from domesticated cats-“ what is this man even talking about

•there’s a whole chart about physical symptoms and what they mean and the footnotes are killing me this man really put a footnote in his self help book to make a joke that shitting yourself during a fight is a good distraction technique

• “use your brain. Please go see a doctor” okay maybe he does give good advice

•we’re talking about how finding a safe place during a panic attack can actually be bad and I’m feeling very called out. If I want to cry in the linen closet at work for ten minutes whats it to you

•”chaotic and argumentative holiday family dinner” you say? Please elaborate on that: 2

•Jess is going to hell for thinking about tits??? Dan this is a self help book not conversion therapy

•why is Dan making me imagine wasps that look like old people banging

•”if you recognize these symptoms in yourself, please question it” me, after being called out about ten times in one paragraph ❌👄❌

•”I always appreciated someone making a joke in poor taste at my expense” boy Dan you’d love it here at dramaphan dot com 💀

•okay I’m finally at the end of the intro section. Gonna stop for now. Review so far: it’s fine

[scripttorture]

First of all, thank you for your incredible work. I am in awe of this blog and the time you must put into it. I have a question about the aftermath of torture. I am writing a story about a character who was tortured by the secret police and then sent to a labour camp for several years. During that time, he has been tortured on a number of occasions, mainly as a form of punishment. Even day to day, it is a very unhealthy place 1/3

(restrictive food rations, washing facilities treated as a luxury rather than a necessity, poor access to health-care etc.) In the story, my character has just been released, and he is both physically and mentally unwell. My question is about the onset of posttraumatic symptoms. My understanding is that some posttraumatic symptoms are initially adaptive. 2/3For instance, being on edge and thinking people might be about to kill you is an understandable, even helpful thing to feel on a battlefield. However when you are not in that environment and that still sticks, it becomes maladaptive. How would the way you deal with trauma of past torture differ if you are somewhere unsafe like a labour camp as opposed of somewhere safe (e.g. with family)? Might new symptoms start appearing after release? ¾ (previously 3 - messed up my count)  Might new symptoms start appearing after release? Might they change how they present? My MC’s trauma is going to be new to his family who have not seen him since before his arrest, but to what extent might them be new to *him* too? Thank you! 4/4

-

That’s an interesting question. Keep in mind that I’m not a mental health professional so my answer is based on a combination of survivor accounts, personal experience with mental health issues and what mental health professionals say about survivors.

 I don’t tend to think of symptoms as being adaptive while I’m writing but that’s very much bound up in how I tend to approach writing symptoms. If thinking about symptoms as adaptive and becoming maladaptive helps you then by all means use that approach. I think you can make that argument for most of the common torture symptoms.

 I’m not sure if it’s accurate to say that new symptoms appear after release, I think it might be more accurate to say new symptoms are discovered after release.

 What I mean by that is that symptoms don’t suddenly pop up out of nowhere, but they might suddenly become more apparent or consciously recognised as conditions.

 For instance- a lot of forced labour camps use dogs as guard animals and occasionally weapons. Within the camp it just makes sense to avoid the dogs. But back out in the world the character might suddenly become aware that dogs make him feel anxious, that barking causing panic attacks. And that would be a lot more difficult to deal with in a culture where dogs are companion animals that can be encountered virtually anywhere at virtually any time.

 He might also discover aspects of his symptoms that he just didn’t have a chance to notice existed before.

 For example depression often causes problems around food. It’s very common for people with depression to feel nausea and have difficulty eating. It’s also very common for people to over eat and make themselves feel sick.

 In a highly regimented environment where food is strictly controlled your character may not have experienced that particular aspect of depression. Which means any depression-related issues around food could take him completely by surprise.

 It’s also very possible for presentation of symptoms to change with time and with environment.

 If I keep using depression as an example; let’s say the character and his family recognise that his problems are probably depression and he goes for treatment quite quickly. Let’s say he gets a prescription and he’s one of the lucky people who finds an effective medication first time. As the depressive symptoms ease he might expect life to get easier- only to find that now he’s not in deep depression most of the time other symptoms become more apparent and seem more severe.

 I say ‘seem more severe’ because I’m not actually sure if symptoms really become worse in these scenarios or if they just seem worse because the survivor doesn’t have as many coping strategies for these other symptoms.

 I guess what I’m driving at here is that yes I think a lot of these symptoms and behaviours could be (or at least feel) new to the character. But they don’t necessarily have to be new to the readers.

 Establishing some of these behaviours and thought patterns beforehand or just hinting at them is perfectly realistic and can be a good narrative choice.

 I get the impression that any huge change, especially if it’s unexpected, can have a negative impact on mental health. I’m saying this because I think it’s worth stressing that going from one safe environment to another safe environment would have a negative effect on most mentally ill people.

 Suddenly being in control of his routine, the type and amount of food he can eat, access to hygiene facilities; all of that is a positive change but it would also be a stressful one. A lot of survivors from this kind of forced labour scenario seem to struggle with that sudden shift from having no real control of their lives to being in control of everything again.

 The impression I get is that at first it’s good, it’s a relief. But after a while it can become a source of stress, especially if the character’s symptoms involve memory problems.

 For instance perhaps he finds he likes spending a long time in the shower now. A lot of people find hot water soothing and it would be perfectly normal for him to indulge in something that was denied him.

 But if it becomes something that he turns to often then it could easily go past the point of soothing or indulgence and start having a negative impact on his life.

 ‘Why were you later for this appointment?’ ‘Well I was having a shower’ That lasted two hours. Why’s the water bill so high? Why’s his skin red and flaky?

 And then the behaviour starts becoming stressful, perhaps even a guilty cycle.

 Learning to establish a routine of his own again could be quite difficult. Especially if his family have little experience with mental health problems.

 Because it’s hard to tell when it’s ‘right’ to let someone have a lie in (he’s been through so much, let him rest) and when it’s an extension of depressive behaviour driving him to withdraw.

 The presentation of symptoms can change a lot with such a sudden and extreme environmental change. The reasons behind the changes can be hard to pin down and there is quite a bit of variety.

 I think the only thing I’d caution against is having a main established symptom vanish completely and replacing it with completely new, unestablished symptoms.

 Partly because I’ve never seen that described by a survivor, but also partly because I think it wouldn’t work in a story. Readers need to be able to see at least a little of where these symptoms come from and how they change. Otherwise it can seem like it’s come out of nowhere.

 Wrapping this up the ask reminded me a lot of Levi’s The Periodic Table. It’s a series of short stories covering incidents before, during and after his incarceration during the Holocaust. It’s been a long time since I read it and I’m not sure if it would be helpful to you. It might be though.

 Generally, it sounds like you’ve thought about this scenario and the character a lot. I’m confident that you’ll be able to establish the symptoms you pick and the ways those symptoms change.

 Writing this sort of long term recovery is a challenge, in part because there often isn’t a pre-defined end point. But it sounds like you are putting in the work and care a lot about how this story comes out.

 And that’s more then half the battle. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[xiaomomowrites]

Affection [Oneshot]

100 prompts: Cuddle Attack on Titan | Eremika

Summary: Mikasa notices, Eren gets really affectionate when he's really tired. When he falls asleep on her, again, she freezes, eyes wide as Armin raises an eyebrow at their compromising position. Eren was blatantly cuddling her in public.

Find this story on AO3 and Fanfiction! [levi-nii-san | ampalayeah]

A/N: Oh man, so they dropped chapter 118 and you best believe I lost my shit haha. The plot thickens! Have some sleepy Eren to help you cope, maybe. And leave me some feedback! I always appreciate it! This is set after chapter 50~

-

Mikasa notices, Eren gets really affectionate when he's really tired.

The first time she noticed, she thought nothing of it. Though it wasn’t necessarily normal, it didn’t seem too out of the blue. She sat, reading an updated manual on her gear in the kitchen, as required by their captain this morning. Her eyebrows met in the middle as she tried to understand what the point even was of reading this nonsense, if she already knew her equipment inside and out just from hands-on experience.

She was starting to suspect that Levi was just keeping her off of her feet while her ribs healed, since she got busted for working out the other day.

But since Armin has had his nose in his book all morning across from her at the table, she assumed it might be worth her time.

Eren had his book half open on the table in front of him, but he had fallen asleep beside her; his cheek was pressed up against her arm while his hand rested gently on her thigh. The slouch in his posture could not possibly have been comfortable, but the way his face looked so relaxed indicated otherwise. She dismissed it, thinking he was just tired.

This last week has been rough for him and everyone knew that he very much had trouble sleeping at night. The experiments and training that Eren had been tirelessly working on with Levi regarding his Titan’s hardening ability had absolutely taken a physical toll on him. On top of that, some nights he would just wake up in a panic, blaming it on the stress of feeling like a failure, flashbacks playing so vividly in his sleep.

“It’s fine,” he would dismiss it when Armin and Mikasa tell him the next day that those bags under his eyes look like they could pack enough shit for all three of them. “Once I figure it out, I’ll be fine.”

Except he wasn’t, and it showed when he would fall asleep randomly during the day like this.

It started off innocently (after all, this isn’t the first time he’s ever fallen asleep beside her). She assumed that since she was the closest thing around, it made sense to use her as a cushion as opposed to the hard wooden furniture that decorated the entire cabin. Mikasa noticed his breathing slow steadily; the quiet rhythm of his breaths somehow synched with hers as she found it harder to focus on her reading.

As soon as he crossed over into deeper sleep, Eren shifted: he moved his head from the side of her arm up onto her shoulder in a rather affectionate manner, so that she felt his warm breath on her neck. Since there was nothing to support him from behind, the only way to balance himself was his arm now wrapped around her midsection as his whole weight rested on her.

The young soldier froze, eyes wide as Armin raised an eyebrow at their compromising position. Eren was blatantly cuddling her in public.

“You okay?” Armin asks, looking up at them.

“Uh,” Mikasa steadied herself with her elbows on the table, the book in her hands now completely forgotten. She shot Armin a pleading look, and he almost chuckled at the panic in her face.

“Just tell him to move.”

“Mmm...but he looks so comfortable,” she lifts her arm slightly and his eyebrows knitted together slightly at her movement. “I know he hasn’t been sleeping well, I don’t want to wake him.”

Armin shrugs in agreement, “I suppose so. Suit yourself then.”

Mikasa clears her throat awkwardly, shifting ever so slightly to get more comfortable (since she now had to be comfortable enough for the both of them) as she attempted to put her focus back on her homework.

But when her efforts seemed futile, she sighed in defeat.

She turned her head slightly to see the peace that decorated his features. He moved again a little his hand found  its way into her untucked shirt and she gasped as his grip tightened slightly around her waist.

Across the table, Armin tried not to laugh.

Mikasa considered calling his name to wake him up; it seemed more practical and comfortable to sleep on a bed. He seemed so weirdly comfortable as it is, however, and there was no denying that part of her enjoyed this. So she decided against it.

And she would have been fine too if it weren’t for the intense thumping in her chest that distracted her from reading. He shifted one more time to press himself even closer to her (if that was even possible, at least she didn’t think so) and warmth surged through both of them. The last time he even let himself get this close to her was back when they were kids plagued by nightmares and thunderstorms. But after joining the military, there just weren't opportunities to be this proximate. And she honestly thought they had outgrown this need to be so attached at the hip.

In reality, Mikasa was more confused than she cared to admit. To be fair, the situation would have probably been confusing to anyone, even Armin, for it seemed as though Eren was only this touchy when he was tired or asleep.

At least, that was her theory.

The second time she noticed it, she was cleaning her gear, as Levi had assigned to be the chore for the morning. The young Ackerman sat on the floor, her tools scattered in front of her as she was intent on finishing this before lunch. It wasn’t too difficult of a chore, but it required taking some things apart to clean before assembling it back together. It was supposed to be, as the captain had so eloquently explained, ‘a task to both clean their shit and teach them about the mechanics of it’.

It should have been an easy task, more or less, until Eren had fallen asleep beside her again. She vaguely remembered him mentioning at breakfast how his lack of sleep could be blamed on another shitty nightmare and anxious thoughts last night. Mikasa knew better than to pry any further if that’s all he wished to say about it. Besides, it would give her another opportunity to gather data for her hypothesis.

What she didn’t expect was for him to knowingly fall asleep in the middle of their chores, when he knew Levi could come in at any given moment.

Yet, the next thing she knows, his head is in her lap and he’s cuddled up to her again. She is wary, for neglecting two chores in a row would probably piss Levi off exponentially this time. Eren had an excuse, she didn’t.

Mikasa extends her leg and he groans a little, irritated. She stifled a giggle at how childish he seemed, but nevertheless attempts to wake him up carefully.

“Eren?” she asked softly.

“Hmmm,” he moaned gently in response, his voice was deep and husky when he spoke, “stop moving, Mikasa.”

As Mikasa’s heart drops down into her stomach and she felt all symptoms of fight or flight take action, she realized that he indeed knew it was her whom he was being so affectionate with. She immediately ceases all movement and he relaxes, wrapping an arm around her upper thigh to get more comfortable.

With her heart pounding recklessly in her chest accompanied by a heat that settled in the pit of her stomach, she decides to let him sleep instead as she finishes her task at hand. Nevermind the leg he was holding onto, it wasn't necessary for the chore.

Eren seemed much more lively after he woke up, as if that short nap had been all he needed to power through the rest of his chores. Mikasa sat beside him after lunch as it was his turn to clean his ODM gear.

She watched him intently work his way through taking it apart effortlessly. If she didn't know any better, his body language implied that he was indifferent to her presence. Yet, he seemed content with her company.

Although the two had the gift of understanding each other without words, sometimes it was hard to tell with Eren. A whole storm of emotions and thoughts were stirring up inside of her as she resolved to test another theory this afternoon.

“When did you do this?” he asked out of nowhere, his gaze still set on the gear in front of him.

“This morning,” she answers simply, fully aware of the erratic patterns of her heart as she scooted closer to him on the bench. Eren didn’t flinch. "When you took a nap."

"Oh," he nods approvingly, "that was a good nap."

"Was it?"

He glanced up at her from his equipment, a little bewildered. Perhaps she was just trying to make conversation. He smiled a small smile at her, "Yeah. I feel more well rested."

Mikasa couldn't fight the smile threatening to show on her face, "That's good then. Levi won't say it but he's been a little worried about you."

At that, Eren scoffed, "Sure. What else did he need us to do today?”

“Just clean, I’m sure.”

“Ah,” he nods in confirmation. “Are you off the hook then, or…?”

“I finished already,” she told him. “He didn't say anything else.”

“Hm,” he hums in response, before Mikasa takes a deep breath and boldly puts her theory to test. He was being quite amicable right now, there might not be a better time. She was already close enough to him and he hadn’t moved from her, so she gently leans over and rests her head on his shoulder.

At first, Eren tensed immensely, and had she been watching his expression, she would have seen a cute and rather prominent blush adorn his cheeks and spread up to his ears. He felt warm all over, and her faint scent intoxicated him at her proximity. He inhaled, attempting to relax his heart rate that had skyrocketed at her actions.

She smelled like soap. Or perhaps it was perfume? It reminded him vaguely of those bath and candle stores his mother used to visit with them back then. Suddenly his heart felt lighter, and the ugly thoughts that kept him up at night and pestered him during the day were nowhere to be found. The temptation to just pick her up and take her back to bed to sleep in close proximity for the rest of the day was so strong.

He wondered how he would be able to sleep tonight without this.

When Eren came to his senses, he shrugged her off, doing his best to sound annoyed.

“Mikasa, come on,” he snaps gently, afraid to upset her, “I’m busy and people will see.”

The girl in question sat up, confused and flustered, and muttered a quick apology before standing up altogether. She wasn’t sure where she was going, she just needed to get out of there.

“Where are you going?” he asked, as soon as he felt the warmth of her closeness disappear. Remorse decorated his voice, and he wondered how much of an idiot he would look like if he called her back and confessed what he was truly feeling, just so she wouldn't go away. But Mikasa didn't notice his inner turmoil over her own embarrassment.

“Ah, to clean.”

“You said you already-”

“I’m sure Levi will have something,” she mumbled in a hurry, and almost missed the look of disappointment in his face if she had left any sooner.

Mikasa had disregarded her theory for the rest of the week, the embarrassment of her bold advancements still haunting her and keeping her from trying to figure out what it was with Eren being so tired around her.

After that last incident, she had spent another five minutes spiraling in her thoughts and theories before deciding it was futile. Maybe there were just some things about her best friend that she couldn't decipher, and that's probably okay.

Eren had fallen asleep on her two more times in that time, in which Mikasa did her best to not nurse the need to know what was up. Especially since each time it was still inconclusive; if anything it only managed to confuse and fluster the poor girl. But this distraction followed her even into training with Levi, causing her to twist her own ankle in the middle of a late-night sparring match.

“Hm, looks like we’re even,” the corporal teases as he bends down to examine her injury. She scowls up at him, but is far too tired and doesn’t have the will to make a snappy retort. What he said next caught her completely off guard. "What's on your mind, kid?"

"Hmm?" The younger Ackerman looks up at him from the ground, clearly not expecting the captain to notice something was up, let alone confront the issue. His eyes looked the same, but there was a softness to it as he crouched down to her level.

"Your mind is somewhere else." Levi states bluntly, as he hands her a pack of ice.

"Oh, uh, right, I just...um…"

"Is it about that idiot?"

Mikasa sank back, unable to make an excuse before muttering a pathetic, "yes."

Levi chuckled, and Mikasa tried to fight the smile on her face. "Don't think too much about it, he probably doesn't even know what's going on either."

It was vague, but Mikasa had a feeling the corporal had an idea what was going on. He just seemed to get it.

"I suppose," she resigns, accepting his hand to help her up. "Thank you."

"Yeah," Levi reaches up to pat her on the head. "Now get some rest. And stop over thinking."

Mikasa gracefully limps back to her quarters, aggravated as ever at being incapacitated yet again, when she spots Eren fumbling with the doorknob to her room.

“Eren?”

“Mmm,” he looks at her, eyes half lidded, leaning lazily on the doorframe. She realizes he’s either sleep walking, or he had gotten up, half asleep, (perhaps to use the restroom) and instead hobbled over to her room unconsciously afterward. Eren steps aside for her to open the door and then follows her in, dazed, as sleep had a confusing hold on him.

She sets the pack of ice beside her bed and tosses her scarf and jacket messily onto the bedside table. Meanwhile, her guest waited patiently for her to finish dressing down. Groaning from exhaustion, pain, and irritation, Mikasa kicks off her boots before turning to face her childhood friend. “It’s late, Eren, go to bed.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, before tackling Mikasa down onto the bed with him ungracefully. She gasped in surprise as he wiggles around to make himself comfortable around her, their limbs eventually tangled in a mess.

Eren eventually settles down, silence and peace overtaking the atmosphere. All except for her increased heart rate that she could feel up in her ears. But even as Mikasa’s head was spinning with confusion and she was so sure her ears were a bright vermillion red (the color of sheer embarrassment), she also felt oddly at peace. Despite the dead weight of his limbs resting heavily over her slim frame, and her two recovering injuries, she felt so warm and soft. It was an inexplicable comforting feeling.

He moves once more, burying his face into her shoulder and mumbles something that sounds vaguely like “g’night, m'ksa, love you.”

It takes her an hour to fall asleep that night.

-

Frustrating.

At the end of the week Mikasa decides to leave it at that, concluding that though Eren is maddeningly inconsistent and wildly confusing, that’s just how he is.

When she woke up that morning he was already out of bed. A cold, empty feeling threatened at her chest despite understanding that she had slept in and he couldn't afford to do the same without an excuse. It wasn’t (shouldn’t be) anything personal...right?

The young soldier sat up ungracefully, grimacing as she is painfully reminded of her injuries. All that doesn't matter though when she notices a new ice pack sitting beside her neatly folded scarf and jacket. Only then did she also notice how the side of the bed he had slept on was smoothed down and the blanket that she was sure was a mess from all the moving last night was neatly draped over her figure.

Her cheeks felt warm all of a sudden, but she figured it would be presumptuous to assume...

She finds him sitting on the floor of the kitchen at noon beside Armin, after the squad had finished cleaning for the morning. He was leaning against the wall, just watching the rest of their team goof off around before lunch. Mikasa takes her cleaning bandana off and sits beside him, carefully giving enough space in case he gets all weird about their proximity in public again.

“Hey,” he greets her.

“Hi.” She glances over to him, noting how relatively perky he looked today.

"You look like you slept well,” she comments without thinking.

"I did," is all he says, and she looks away after noticing the way the corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile. Or maybe she was imagining it.

Eren looks over to Mikasa and his expression softened when he noticed how tense she was. Her shoulders were stiff and the way she was sitting could not possibly be comfortable. Her eyes seemed drained, and though she looked content to finally be beside him after a long morning, she definitely looked exhausted.

Mikasa had gotten enough sleep, she told herself. Or maybe not, it was hard to tell. Perhaps it was more mentally exhausting having to entertain the (unwanted?) thoughts of Eren's warm figure pressed up against her all night as she worked through her chores. If it weren't for the way her heart rate skyrocketed every time he moved against her, she thought, it definitely could be something she could get used to. Besides, that was probably the best sleep she’s had in a while.

At the end of the day, the most frustrating part of it was that she still wasn't any closer to figuring him out. Should she ever get used to his sleepy affection, it would be absolutely tormenting to have to deal with withdrawal if it ever stopped. Especially since all this was happening without any explanation whatsoever.

The shifter sighed, a twinge of guilt tugging at his conscience. He knew what was up.

"Did you not?"

"What?" Her gaze snapped to him after being yanked out of her spiraling thoughts.

"Did you not sleep well?" The object of her affection repeated slowly.

"I did," she told him easily,  smiling at him. But he wasn't buying it.

"Mikasa," he warns.

The girl in question wrinkled her nose, clearly not used to being put in the spotlight by him like this. "I just...my injuries were making it hard to fall asleep I think."

Eren looked at her, guilty. "I'm sorry. I know I move around a lot when I sleep."

She looks up at him again, surprised that he would even bring it up at all. She was under the impression that he just pretended it didn't happen every time. Maybe she was onto something after all.

This time her smile was genuinely, "it's fine, Eren."

He stares at her for a minute, a plethora of emotions fighting their way for a place in his heart.

“Come here,” he commands gently. For a moment she just looks at him, confused, as he looks like he’d really rather not say it again. “Mikasa,” he calls her name instead, snapping her out of her thoughts, and extends his arm to her, inviting her into his bubble.

She looks at him weirdly at first. Nevertheless, she leans closer slowly until he puts an arm lazily around her shoulder and pulls her in to close the rest of the distance between them. She immediately relaxes, and for the first time in a long time, the two seem genuinely and completely at peace.

Eren rubs her arm affectionately, and she nuzzles up to him, eyes closing on their own accord. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, both of them blissfully unaware if anyone else was watching.

“Thank you,” he tells her.

“What for?”

“For everything,” he says vaguely, and watches as that doesn’t quite satisfy her curiosity. "It's been hard to sleep lately, what with everything that's happened."

"You haven't given it enough time."

"I know, but it's not like we're given that much of a luxury. I don't even know how long we'll be here. I can't just stop to grieve."

Mikasa hums in response, prompting him to control the conversation. He hasn't opened up like this in a long time, but with both of his best friends on either side of him, in the midst of a relaxed day, it just seemed like a good time.

"The nightmares keep me up at night, they're so fresh. Of all our losses, of Hannes...of almost losing you…"

She reaches forward to rest a hand on his thigh reassuringly. "It's alright. I'm here."

"I know. I know, I know." his voice sounds shaky. "I just...I hated seeing it the first time, and it sucked just as much seeing it replay over and over again, especially in my sleep where I had no control over my asshole of a subconscious. Some nights I just didn't want to sleep. But when you were close by, whenever I was on the verge of sleep, just...being so close to you let me submit. It felt okay."

They sat in a comfortable silence for another minute before he quickly adds, "sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," she reassures, finally at peace within herself. It was completely a surprise to get this closure, let alone to know that the real reason for his odd behavior was because of all the comfort he found with her.

"Thank you, Mikasa." He says gently, before turning his attention back to Sasha and Connie arguing over a ladle.

“Hmmm,” she hums, fully content, feeling sleep slowly take over her. A nap before lunch in his arms sounded fantastic. "You’re welcome.”

[toosmallinabigworld-blog]

Just What the Doctor Prescribed, Literally

I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a really long time and it means the world to me that so many of you have read the blog and been supportive. Hearing from everyone that read my last post confirmed for me that starting this blog was a good idea. I received a lot of compliments and anecdotes from people telling me that they appreciated my candor and willingness to talk about issues that they hadn’t heard talked about or weren’t able to talk about themselves. So, thank you for reading. I was struggling for a very long time with writer’s block, I would start something and then immediately criticize it and not know how to continue. It felt like I was running full force into a brick wall. I think that happened because I was trying to write fiction. When I was a kid and in middle school, I could write fiction like nobody’s business. Now, I realized that I struggle with fiction because I can’t relate to it anymore. I don’t want to write about made up characters that deal with real life scenarios. I want to write about real people that deal with real scenarios. So, let’s chat about a real life thing, shall we?

           Mental illness. It’s a phrase that people spit out of their mouths like it’s rotten. A phrase that makes people uneasy and nervous, ironically. The real life equivalent of saying Voldemort. This is a topic I’m nervous to discuss because it is incredibly personal to me. And I have reservations about talking about my experience with this due to the controversy surrounding it. But I feel that it is important to talk about, regardless of how weary it makes me. Mental illness is no joke and if talking about this could potentially help someone then feeling anxiety about this is worth it. According to The National Institute of Mental Health, in 2016 it was found that nearly 1 in every 5 adults in the U.S. lives with a mental illness. If you’re bad at math like I am, that’s 44.7 MILLION people. Almost 45 million people in the U.S. have a mental illness and yet we still treat those people that are afflicted like lepers. Like they are lesser human beings than us because of something that they can’t control. Now, not everyone who has a mental illness is treated like shit. Because some are more accepted than others and by accepted, I mean acknowledged. Such as ADD and ADHD. Those are illnesses that are more commonly accepted because they are less scary to think about. I don’t know anyone who has thrown a bitch fit over someone that has a hard time sitting still, concentrating and overlooking things. They’ve gotten frustrated but not immediately assumed that they were unstable and broken. Let’s face it those are the easiest to wrap the mind around. But when things start to get complicated is when people tend to start getting judgmental and scared and hateful. And hate stems from fear. I can’t remember where I heard that but it’s pretty damn accurate. For example, I’ve heard those who have Schizophrenia blatantly referred to as crazy. And why are they called crazy? Because of Schizophrenia’s most popularized symptoms, delusions and hallucinations. We’ve all heard tales of people seeing animals or people, hearing voices that tell them to do horrific things and those are legitimate things that happen. But those are all we hear about. And because we don’t necessarily understand why that happens, we get scared and demonize them. Which is bullshit. If we immediately got scared of everything we didn’t understand nobody would ever leave their houses. I don’t understand how concrete is made but that doesn’t mean that I don’t walk on the sidewalk or get in a car and drive on the street. I would venture to say that Schizophrenia is probably the most controversial of the mental illnesses, but it is not alone in illnesses that make people uncomfortable. Take OCD for example, people just think it’s obsessive organizing and that it is a choice, something they can just stop doing. But it is infinitely more complicated than that. It’s uncontrollable thoughts and actions that they feel they have to repeat over and over again. And in extreme cases, they think something bad is going to happen if they don’t carry out those behaviors. People’s reactions to those illnesses are what facilitate such negative thought processes about hyper common maladies such as depression and anxiety.

           Nothing pisses me off more than hearing someone say to a person with depression, just be happy. When you have clinical depression you don’t get to choose to “just be happy” because guess what? It isn’t that easy, it’s out of your control entirely. Clinical depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. The brain isn’t producing enough serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine neurotransmitters. Causing feelings of sadness, hopelessness, lack of interest/motivation, guilt, low energy, etc. I could go on for pages and pages but at the risk of sounding like a commercial for an antidepressant I’ll stop. I think you get the point. I am one of those people who has been told to “just be happy”. I was diagnosed with depression coupled with seasonal affective disorder, anxiety, insomnia, and OCD like repetitive thoughts when I was in 6th grade. As if being 11 and in middle school wasn’t hard enough, let’s throw a mood disorder in the mix, that should be fine. Right? Wrong. Being told you have a mental illness is like waking up one morning and realizing you have a tattoo that you’ve never seen before. You don’t know how you got it, you’re scared that it’s there in the first place, anxious about what other people are going to think about it, it will never go away, and all you can do is take care of it and hope that it doesn’t get infected and fuck up everything else in your life. Depression can be immensely polarizing. I’ve heard a million and one people say that it gets better, but when your brain isn’t doing its job, it inadvertently convinces you that you are utterly and inconceivably alone. And it’s not a constant feeling either. It comes in waves, sometimes I can go for days without feeling like complete ass and sometimes I can go for days feeling like a dead slug. It’s not something you can predict. And it’s a difficult hole to try and dig yourself out of when you find yourself there. Now depression, just like people comes in all shapes and sizes. And most people’s experiences with it don’t mirror each other, and it’s that lack of sameness that breeds the loneliness that is so common in depressed people. I know all too well about that feeling of loneliness. I’m going to take you on a journey through what a bad day looks like for me, which will be really easy to do since I’m having a bad day today. When I wake up I don’t usually know right away that my brain has hit the off switch on functioning. The first indicator is this ever present feeling of heaviness. Like someone dipped my whole body in molasses. Getting out of bed is physically difficult and I don’t even want to. Because even something simple like walking is just fucking hard. My body aches and I feel like a zombie and in reality I probably look like one too. Next on the shit list is the mental fog. And it genuinely feels exactly like it sounds. I can’t think clearly or focus on things that aren’t generally mindless and easy. I isolate myself and even though I’m feeling lonely and sad, I don’t want to be around other people. And I have no desire to eat, I just lose my appetite all together.

           Anxiety does the same thing. I’ve been anxious, worried, and habitually stressed out for as long as I can remember. I’ve had teachers, friends, previous therapists, and even my parents call me a worrier. Which couldn’t be more accurate. I have a terrible habit of worrying about other people so much that I start to take on their problems. Stressing about my dad not having a girlfriend and hoping that he doesn’t end up dying alone. Worrying about my mom every time she gets sick, even if it’s just a cold. Taking on issues my friends are having with their families and trying to use my knowledge from many years of therapy to help them overcome their problems. Worrying and stressing that much can lead to panic. I remember the first time I had a panic attack, it was freshman year and I was in my 6th period Spanish class. Describing what a panic attack feels like is akin to trying to explain what the color red looks like. Especially because it’s subjective, no two people have the same experience. But because it’s important I’m going to do my best to explain. It feels like the world is crashing down on me for no particular reason. It’s terrifying. It legitimately feels like my skin is turning inside out. I get shaky, sweat like a whore in church, scared. It feels like I’m trapped in my own body and all I want to do is run away and hide. From myself. Panic attacks are something I still struggle with. They’ve decreased in prevalence since I found a medication regiment that works for me but even that doesn’t eradicate them completely. Most of the time I have no warning as to when one is going to happen. But there are some specific triggers, for example when I hear an unexpected loud bang or noise. I have PTSD and that sound sets off a fire in my brain that causes me to panic. Or when my stress level gets too high and I get overwhelmed. My mind doesn’t know whether to fight or flee so it gets stuck in the middle and I shut down. There is nothing that I know of that compares to that feeling. And when it’s over I’m left exhausted and weak. It fucking sucks. There’s no other way to say it. It fucking sucks.

           When I was first diagnosed, I was paralyzed at the thought of telling anyone that I have d&a (depression and anxiety, it’s getting annoying writing out the entire words). I was scared of being judged by my peers, and looked at like a freak, like I was different; even more different than I already felt. I didn’t want to get bitched at by everyone for being the emotionally broken girl, which is what I thought I was. I remember my first appointment with my psychiatrist, I was scared. I was adamant about not wanting to go on medication, but my parents thought otherwise. Which wasn’t a bad thing. In reality going on medication was the best thing that could have happened. Because I don’t know where I would be without it. I’ve had the discussion with multiple people about how I shouldn’t need to be on medication anymore. That I should be able to just learn how to deal with my depression and move on. But it isn’t that simple. Like I said before, depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. The medication helps rebalance me. But it isn’t an exact science. Since 6th grade I have been on 8 different medications, some of which I still take. Why so many you ask? It comes back to it not being an exact science. Sometimes the medication will work for a while and then just stop. Which, speaking from personal experience, is a bitch and a half. It’s so aggravating when you can feel that something isn’t right but should be. That being said, finding the right medication, or medications in my case can be immensely helpful. I’ve gone from regular panic attacks and depression so bad that you can’t complete simple tasks to what I refer to as, being at ground zero. Ground zero is a great place to be, no extreme highs and the absolute lowest of lows. Just level. There is no joy in the world that can compare to finally feeling normal when you’re used to feeling like your emotions are exploding.  

           I have been really lucky to have a family who completely supports me and is always there when I need them. And they understand when I’m having a shitty day and what that means. I have been spectacularly lucky to have that. Others have not been so lucky. And that breaks my heart. Nobody deserves to be looked down upon for something that they can’t control. It’s like getting mad at someone for the color of their eyes. They didn’t choose the color, genetics gave them that color. So, who are we to judge them for that? This post is jam packed with facts and personal testimonials and if you gain anything at all from it, I hope you gain some understanding and empathy. That the next time you see someone on the street talking to themselves or one of your friends is really sad or stressed out for no obvious reason. Don’t judge. Try to understand. Try and wrap your mind around the concept that their brain is, for lack of a better phrase, rebelling against them. You don’t choose to have a mental illness, just like you don’t choose to have legs. It’s what life has bestowed upon you. So, I challenge you to try and change your frame of mind, you may find it enlightening.  

[recoversuggestions]

hi there!! i was wondering if you have any suggestions to coping mechanisms for physical panic attack symptoms (i get such bad shaking to the point i can’t stand, walk or even function, feel so nauseous and have stomach pains) is there anything that can make these more manageable or calm them down? xx

hey there! i hope you’re doing okay 💖

to be honest, medication can help with that. the meds you take when you need aren’t necessarily a long term solution, but they can help with your panic attacks until your anxiety gets better. ask your doctor or psychiatrist! you could also try anti-nausea meds or things like that. obv be careful not to take too many or become addicted or whatever, but it can be useful in the moment or even provide a placebo effect that’ll help you calm down. 

also, make sure that you’ve taken care of yourself! eaten, drank water, dressed warmly enough, etc. it might not make the symptoms disappear, but it could help calm them down a bit.

apart from that, the only way you can get rid of physical symptoms is when the panic attack itself gets better. i use distraction a lot because when you’re focusing on your symptoms, it just makes you more anxious and it becomes a cycle. listen to music, watch something, read a book, etc. i like to do two things at once so i don’t have time to think. also, if you know what you’re anxious about, you could try to fix that problem. 

good luck b 💖 - emma 

[philsdrill]

Chapter 39: Sometimes It’s Okay to Not Be Okay

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, a lot of awkwardness, small amounts of smut. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 8.7k

[Uploads will be hopefully every couple of weeks! (follow @philsdrill-updates to hear when I post)]

A/N: It’s a long chapter so it took me a long time, okay. Partially due to the fact I went to Canada for a week and was super busy (featuring jetlag, dehydration and murdering my feet by walking too far)! It was a good time but it kinda put my writing behind by a week. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter

Dan’s POV:

I never thought I’d find myself working in a café, not after all my issues with food, but here I was. Phil was friends with one of the staff and when he heard they were looking for an extra employee, he wondered if this would be a good opportunity for me. I didn’t even know what I was looking for in terms of a job, but when Phil said his friend was willing to give me a couple of shifts as a trial, I realised there was no harm in trying.

The probationary shifts went well. I found that I was perfectly capable of making and serving sugary coffees and cakes, so long as I wasn’t eating them. In a way, it made me feel a little better about myself, that what I was eating was pretty good in comparison. I occasionally found the doughnuts staring back at me from the counter, but at least I knew to expect them being there. Surprise doughnuts were another story, but when I turned around expecting to see them, I wouldn’t really feel anxious.

Thankfully, my anxiety had been manageable and my new job hadn’t given me anything to be anxious about so far. Phil’s college was just along the road, so sometimes when he had breaks from his cooking classes he would come along to have his lunch or just a coffee. Sometimes I’d be able to have my lunch with him, but not always. Lunch was a busy time and my breaks depended on the shifts and the other staff I was on with. It was quite calming to know he was just five minutes away if I did happen to need him and I think he felt better too, knowing I was nearby.

The other staff were lovely and I’d even go so far as to say I’d made a couple of friends. I usually worked with Sarah and Andy, or at least one of them was usually on the same shift as me. They were both kind people, and I was slowly opening up to them about some of my issues. Sarah, being Phil’s friend that had helped get me the job, already knew about my eating disorder and was nothing but supportive about it from the beginning.

There was one day, when I wasn’t quite feeling like eating, that the prospect of finishing my ham and lettuce sandwich was just too much. I’d eaten almost half of it, but with every bite I took, I felt a little more nauseous, my skin crawling at the thought of the greasy butter that I could feel on my tongue. I didn’t think twice about tossing the rest of it in the food waste, presuming Sarah was too busy working to notice.

“Dan?” she looked up, making eye contact with me and laying a plate down, “You okay? You not eating?”

“No more, can’t do it today,” I said, feeling my words get caught in my throat a little, “Eating makes me feel a bit sick sometimes.”

“How much did you have?” she asked, flipping the lid up on the bin to take a look, “Half?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, filled with a sudden fear that she was going to make me eat more.

“That’s okay,” she nodded, squeezing my arm a little, “Did you have something to drink?”

I shook my head, realising that no, I hadn’t.

“What d’you like? A can of something? Hot chocolate? Blackcurrant squash?” she prompted.

“Uhh blackcurrant squash would be good,” I said, not bothering to think what else I could have; that sounded the best option out of what she suggested.

“Okay great,” she said, getting out a glass and the bottle of squash, making it up for me, “Now go grab a chair from the back and bring it in here.”

I went to get a chair, appreciating the effort she was making to ensure I was okay. As I carried the chair, I felt a bit weak; I knew I really should eat more, but that wasn’t going to help my mental block on doing so.

“Sit down,” she said softly, “Now here’s your juice.”

I sat down on the chair and took the juice from her, starting to sip on it slowly. I wasn’t too bothered by the flavour, but it washed away the buttery sandwich remains from my mouth, something that I welcomed a lot. Part of me was itching to get the bottle and look at the sugar content, but I could feel Sarah keeping an eye on me.

Sarah handed the plate she’d been working on through the front to Andy, then turned back to me. “How’re you doing with that juice?”

“Good,” I nodded, “I think it’s helping ‘cause I don’t feel like I have sandwich in my mouth anymore.”

“Okay good,” she smiled, “Think that’ll keep you going for the afternoon?”

“Hopefully,” I nodded, knowing that my body probably did need more food, but it had coped on less before, so I knew I could do it.”

That afternoon had been a difficult one as I went through various stages of having energy from my juice, then a gap where I felt tired and awful. I wasn’t meant to have a break but Andy made me a hot chocolate and sent me through the back drink it. Thankfully, I made it through the rest of my shift alright, and by dinnertime I was actually feeling up to eating properly again. I’d let Phil know of my struggle, just to keep him in the loop with my mental wellbeing. So far, that had been the only day where my eating disorder had had any effect on me at work.

There was another day where I opened up to Andy about my anxiety. Not long before ten, we had a customer, who came in, ordered a coffee so sit in and sat down in the corner of the cafe it drink it. Being a quiet spell, I found my eyes wandering slightly, not necessarily intending to watch the customer, but doing so anyway. The woman took some pills with her coffee, maybe paracetamol or something, but I didn’t see the packet. I was hit with a sudden realisation, one of those ‘oh shit I forgot something’ moments. I’d forgotten to take my medication this morning.

In realising this, my eyes remained on the customer, my mind elsewhere but my eyes staring at her. Andy must’ve noticed this because they waved a hand in front of my face, “Dan, you okay? You’re staring?”

“Uhhmm… I…” I said, feeling at a loss about what to tell them, “I just realised I forgot to take my medication this morning.”

“D’you need it urgently or is it something you’ll be okay without until later?” Andy asked, their voice calming.

“I think I’ll be okay, but I should text Phil to let him know,” I explained, feeling I needed Phil’s assurance that I would be okay.

“Right, go through the back and text him or whatever,” Andy nodded, “I’m good out here on my own for five minutes.”

I made my way through the kitchen and into the back room, where we left our outdoor clothes and took our breaks. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up a new message to Phil.

Umm I just realised I forgot to take my medication this morning. I’ll be fine without it, right?

Shortly after the message sending, I noticed that Phil was typing.

Yeah, you should be fine! but I have a free hour next so how about I drive home, get it and bring it to you?

Feeling a wave of relief at the thought of taking my medication like I should have, I replied to Phil quickly.

That would be great if you don’t mind? I guess I’m just worried I’ll get withdrawal symptoms or be more prone to having an attack because I havent had it

I hit send, waiting for a confirmation that Phil definitely didn’t mind going to get it for me.

It’s fine, honestly :) I’ll see you in like half an hour

Relieved, I slid my phone back into my pocket and made my way back to the front counter, where I let Andy know the news, “Phil’s got a free hour at college next so he’s going to pop home and bring it here for me.”

“Okay great,” Andy smiled, “That’ll stop you worrying.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, relieved.

“Are you sick or something then if you’re taking medication?” Andy asked slowly, a slightly puzzled expression on their face, “Sorry if its personal, you can ignore me.”

“Not really,” I answered, thinking for a minute; I trusted Andy, so there was no reason I couldn’t just tell them the truth, “I have an anxiety disorder and mild PTSD.”

“Oh… Dan…” Andy said, sounding sorry for me, approaching me with open arms.

I let Andy hug me for a moment, appreciating the little bit of comfort after just telling them such a big thing.

“My uh... ex-girlfriend was verbally abusive about my weight,” I explained, trying to get my head around what I wanted to tell them, “I got out of it when it started to go physical, but I was already in a bad place by then. You know about my eating issues, but I sometimes get flashbacks about her and things she said or did… and then general anxiety about my weight, food, eating habits and even things like stress and big life changes.”

I felt some tears welling in my eyes as I opened up to Andy about my problems. It wasn’t something I’d talked about to anyone other than my therapist, and mine and Phil’s families. I took a deep breath and rubbed my left eye with my thumb, trying to appear stronger than I was feeling.

“Dan,” Andy said softly, “Are you okay? Like at this moment?”

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice cracking, “I just want a hug from Phil.”

“He’ll be here soon,” Andy reminded me, squeezing my shoulder slightly, “You want to go take a seat and get yourself a glass of water, as we’re quiet?”

“I’ll get some water,” I said, not really wanting to leave the front counter in case Phil was early.

I grabbed a clean mug and filled it from the tap, leaning against a clear part of the counter to drink it. I took a few deep breaths to calm me, reminding myself that it was okay that Andy knew, in fact it was probably a good idea for me to have opened up to someone at work about my anxiety problems.

Andy must’ve sensed when I was ready to talk again, because soon a carefully worded question came my way, “Has working here affected your anxiety at all, with you having issues with food?”

“It’s okay most of the time because I’m not the one eating it,” I explained, “The only thing which bothers me is the doughnuts, had a bad experience with them, but I can deal with it.”

“You’ll let me know if you ever start to feel anxious while you’re working, right?” Andy asked, “I can’t say for sure I can help, but I’ll do my best. I understand anxiety to some extent, having struggled with my own mental health.”

“I’ll try,” I said truthfully, knowing I would be able to unless I was just suddenly hit by a panic attack, “If anything happens, I’m sure you’ll know about it.”

“Thanks, I’d like to be able to help if you need it,” Andy nodded, taking the empty mug from my slightly shaking hands and refilling it.

When Phil arrived, we’d just hit a busy spell, where Andy and I were both serving customers. Phil looked like he didn’t quite know whether to stand in line or wait around somewhere. When I spotted his confusion, I waited for the momentary gap between two customers and shouted to him just to head through the back, pointing to the ‘staff only’ door at the back of the café. It would take him through to the breakroom come cloakroom, which I would access through the kitchen.

After serving my next customer, Andy told me to go, insisting that they could deal with the remaining customers. I made my way through the kitchen to the back room, briefly explaining to Sarah on the way, as I grabbed myself a glass of water to take my tablet with.

Phil was sat on a chair near to my coat, my box of antidepressants on his knee. He patted the chair next to him for me to come over, “You’ve got some water, good.”

I sat next to Phil and leaned into his side for a moment before taking my medication from him.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked me, sliding an arm around my shoulders, “You seem a bit… jittery?”

“I kind of ended up explaining about my anxiety to Andy and they were good with it, but it was just difficult for me to say, I guess…” I explained, “C-can I get a hug?”

“Of course,” Phil said, softly, his expression going a little gooey. He set my medication and water down on the table, before wrapping his arms around me completely. I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment, enjoying his comforting smell, the feeling of his body wrapped around me, holding me close. I felt warm and safe in his arms, felt that everything would be okay... and that was just what I needed.

I could always hug Phil for longer, but I knew I had medication to take and a job to get back to, so reluctantly, I pulled away and got down to taking my tablet. Pop it out the packet, swallow it, wash it down with water, it was all routine by now. I sighed as I laid the empty glass down on the table, leaning back in the chair to enjoy my last moment before I inevitably had to get back to work.

We finished our exchange with another hug, and a promise from Phil that he would come by at lunchtime. It was comforting to see him again, but at the end of the day, I was fine. It felt good to know that not only was Phil nearby when I was working, but I now had Andy in the loop. They understood to an extent and would help me with my anxiety if it came up at work.

--

Once he had settled into college and his cooking classes, Phil found that he still had the time to work the odd shift at the restaurant. He had become supply cover now, one of the people his boss would phone up if someone else called off sick or they couldn’t find someone to cover a shift. He had no obligation to take a shift, but he often would presuming he had the time.

Although I was working pretty much full time now, we were still getting financial help from our parents. My parents had reduced their contribution now that I was working, but Phil was getting some help from his now as he was at college and only able to work some of the time. It felt good to know that I was capable of earning a steady income, and I knew that if Phil and I were both working, we could be self sufficient.

For the time being, our schedules were more or less aligned. Phil’s schedule varied a bit, but he was in classes Monday to Friday, give or take the odd day here and there. I too usually worked Monday ‘til Friday, nine until five, but I’d get a short day once a week. Apart from the odd time Phil took on a work shift, it gave us all of our evenings and weekends together. It was good for us to have that kind of schedule, because we got into a better routine with getting up, eating dinner and going to bed at more or less the same time each day. Phil would still crash when he came home from work, but in general he seemed less tired.

I was still attending my therapist appointments regularly and whilst I still wasn’t in a completely stable mental state, I would say I was doing the best I had in awhile. I still had little anxious moments, times I’d need to take five minutes here and there to calm myself, but I found my beta-blocker medication rarely moved from my coat pocket these days. I knew I still couldn’t be without it; something could still trigger a panic attack, but it was nice to be feeling a bit better overall. I had people I could talk to and trust if anything got too much and my life had fallen into a routine where there wasn’t much that could overwhelm me.

--

I guess it was a given that something would happen eventually, that someday my anxiety would catch up with me at work, however, I didn’t expect it to happen in the way that it did.

You get into a routine of serving customers, some want coffee, some want sandwiches, but the motions are mostly the same. Occasionally someone asks for something you’ve run out of and you have to explain apologetically, would they like something else? Sometimes you get elderly confused people who come in looking for lipstick and you just have to smile and suggest the nearest pharmacy instead.

Some people are regulars and others you never see again, but you never expect to see the people from your past who you hoped you’d never see again. On the day in question, I was working with with Sarah, Andy and Ben. Andy was working from nine to three and Ben from twelve until six. Shifts varied, but it was always important to cover the lunch rush.

Ben and I had been non stop serving coffees for a while, putting the sandwich orders back into the kitchen for Andy and Sarah to make up. Coffees, cakes, sandwiches, cold drinks; everyone would order something different and it could sometimes get a little overwhelming. Even at two-thirty, we still had a queue. My coping mechanism was to focus solely on the person at the front and getting through their order as quickly and efficiently as I could. I didn’t really have much glimpse of who was behind until I called ‘next’ and the next person stepped forwards.

I finished making a man a latte and passed it out to him, calling forward the next person in the queue and looking up to see who it was next. I felt so much shock, so much fear, the instant I saw her face. Face coated in makeup, framed by greasy brown hair. I’d once thought she was beautiful, but now I wanted to throw up just by looking at her.

“Can I get a cappuccino and a chocolate doughnut please?” she asked, her voice almost mocking.

I’m surprised her order even reached my ears, but I managed to put my hands and feet on autopilot and get through the motions of making her a cappuccino and getting a doughnut out of the cabinet. Meanwhile, my heart was pounding, my chest felt tight and I was definitely struggling to breathe as I told her her total at the cash register.

“That’s four pounds forty nine,” I told her, choking slightly on the ‘nine’ and having to repeat myself.

She handed over a five pound note, which I took with shaking hands and put into the till, grabbing her fifty-one pence change. As I dropped it into her hand, something went wrong, my hand shook and jolted, touching hers for just a fraction of a second. That hand had pointed at various parts of my body, poked me in the stomach and slapped me in the face. I couldn’t be near her and now that I had finished serving her, my only logical thought was to get out of here.

I stumbled through the kitchen to the back room, where I collapsed into the chair nearest my coat. Medication, I needed my medication. Fumbling through the pockets, I found it eventually, bringing the tub out of my pocket and grasping it in my hand. I needed water, why hadn’t I thought of that. I needed water to take these. My throat felt tight and that would make it hard enough to get them down.

I barely even noticed I was sobbing as flashbacks started to intrude my mind, particularly one of her holding an empty doughnut box, a look of pure evil on her face. “What the fuck, you fat imbecile. You ate my entire box of doughnuts - you were fat enough already, you worthless piece of flab! Do you not understand the meaning of my doughnuts?”

Then another one, from earlier in our relationship, when unknowingly, things were starting to go downhill. “Dan, maybe you should go to the gym more. Like wouldn’t sex be better if you had a little more stamina, maybe lose a little weight and you’ll be hot as fuck.”

“Dan, I’m not letting you be on top again until you lose some weight, you’re crushing me.”

“Dan, you don’t really need breakfast when you ate so much for dinner…”

“Please stop eating all my snacks, Dan, it’s not good for you.”

“I’m not having sex with you until you’re under sixty kilos.”

At the time, when I thought I loved her, I thought she was just trying to do what was good for me. It wasn’t until she slapped me in the face that it hit me, literally. She’d yelled so much that day, I could still hear it ringing in my ears.

What the actual fuck Dan?

Get the fuck out of my life.

Confusion hit me as a voice broke through the yelling. No one had been there to break it up; it was just me and her to fight it out.

“Dan,” a voice repeated, softly, “Dan, you there?”

It was Andy, I realised as I opened one of the eyes I had scrunched shut in trying to protect myself. They were crouched next to me, looking concerned, lips moving but I wasn’t getting half of what they were saying.

“Dan, are you hearing me?” they asked, this time enough words getting through for me to understand.

“A little,” I choked, nodding.

“Dan, try and take a deep breath or two, okay. What do you need?” they said, slowly moving their hand so it was within grabbing distance of mine.

“Water, these, ‘n’ Phil,” I choked out, opening my hand a little to show my tub of pills.

“Okay, two seconds,” Andy said, hurrying to the kitchen door and shouting something in to Sarah.

“Sarah’s on the water,” Andy said, returning to pull a chair over next to me, “You want to get your tablet out?”

Nodding, I started trying to open the tub in my hands, but with how much I was shaking, it was a struggle. A frustrated sob burst from my throat as I fought with the lid. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t.

“Dan, can I help?” Andy asked, their hand slowly approaching mine, “Here.”

I let Andy take my medication from me, trusting them to get it out the tub so I could take it. As they were opening the tub, Sarah walked in, holding a mug of water and approaching slowly.

Andy beckoned her over, at the same time depositing a pill into my shaking hand, “Is it just one?”

Nodding, I lifted the pill to my mouth and reached out to Sarah for the mug of water. I let Andy help me with it, because I was completely past the point of trying to do things by myself. I choked a little on the tablet as I swallowed it, but there seemed to be a helping hand rubbing my back as I washed it down.

“Please stop eating all my snacks, Dan, it’s not good for you.”

I shook my head frantically, trying to get her voice out of my head again.

“Please talk,” I croaked to Sarah and Andy, “I need to hear something else.”

“Okay, Dan, we’re going to call Phil now,” Andy started, their voice soothing, “Sarah, could you maybe do that? You’ve got Phil’s number, right?”

Sarah nodded, turning back towards the kitchen, “Of course, yeah.”

“Dan,” Andy continued, “D’you think you could focus on your breathing or is that too hard?”

“Too hard,” I nodded, feeling like I was using all of my mental strength to keep a certain voice out of my head and that I couldn’t realistically focus on anything else.

“Keep sipping your water then,” Andy nodded, rubbing their hand up and down my back, probably as I hadn’t pushed it away. “You’re going to be okay. I’m guessing you can’t really talk about it right now, but you’re safe back here. Sarah’s calling Phil and hopefully he can get down here.”

“What if he can’t get out of class?” I asked, suddenly feeling another wave of overwhelming panic at the thought of Phil not being able to come and help me.

“Phil’s on his way, don’t worry,” Sarah said, poking her head through the door again, “He was in a theory class, so it wasn’t a problem.”

The five minutes that followed were all a blur. Sarah brought me a mug of diluting juice once I’d finished my water and Andy continued to speak to me and rub my back. I was still panicking, chest tight, breathing hard, tears running down my cheeks, but they were keeping me from getting any worse, keeping my mind from any further flashbacks.

When Phil appeared, out of breath, Andy quickly gave up their seat for him. He plopped himself next to me and immediately decided to free me of my apron and my top shirt button. He shed his coat and placed it gently on my shoulders, pushing my hair back off my face. Although his breathing was fast from rushing, I could feel him trying to slow his movements.

“Dan,” Phil said, his voice soothing, slipping his hand between the buttons of my shirt, “What happened? I know you’re having a panic attack and that you’ve taken your medication, but what triggered it.”

“N-no,” I choked, struggling to get her name out.

“No?” Phil questioned softly, “Would be easier to help you if I knew.”

“Nora,” I spluttered, pointing in the direction of the cafe, “Came in, had to get her coffee and doughnut.”

“Okay,” Phil nodded, “You’re safe back here though; I need you to focus on that. It’s just me and Andy in here, no one’s going to hurt you, you’ve got space to breathe.”

I felt the fingers of Phil’s other hand brush over mine, then he gently curled my hand up within his, “Your medication’s going to help you soon, but I need you to keep breathing until then. Want me to do it with you?”

I nodded, feeling too tired to answer in words. I felt Phil undo a button on my shirt, then spread his hand out more. He would tell me to breathe in and he would slowly count for a few seconds, then I would hold my breath, then I would breathe out. The familiarity of the exercise was somewhat comforting; I could focus on one thing at a time and I knew that Phil was ready with the next. I eventually started to fall into a rhythm, started to understand what was coming next. I didn’t stop until Phil stopped, until he was satisfied I had my breathing steady enough. It wouldn’t be perfect, not until my medication slowed my heart rate back to normal.

“One. Two. Three. Four,” Phil paused, “And out…”

When Phil stopped counting my breathing, I relaxed into his side, thankful, but not quite able to express it yet.

“You’re okay Dan, you’re okay,” Phil said, bringing his arms around me in a hug, “Just relax now.”

--

Phil’s POV:

When Sarah had called me during class, I knew something was wrong. She quickly told me that Dan was having a panic attack and that he needed me. I was pleased to hear he’d managed to take his medication, but getting myself to him was a top priority of mine. I quickly excused myself from my class, explaining to my tutor, Mark, that my soulmate needed me urgently.

Knowing I couldn’t really park any nearer to the cafė, I left the car at the college and ran to where Dan worked. Okay, I was a bit out of breath on arrival, but I was able to help him all the same. Hearing that Nora had appeared was a bit of a shock, but I guess it was kind of inevitable that she’d make an appearance again in his life at some point.

Now that I’d helped him calm his breathing, he was cuddled into my side, still shaking, but on the mend. I leant down to kiss him on the forehead, feeling like he was needing a little extra love. What he really needed was his bed, but I wasn’t quite sure if that was possible yet.

“Could you maybe make Dan a hot chocolate?” I asked his colleague and friend, Andy, “No cream or marshmallows, in a takeaway cup.”

“Of course,” Andy nodded, giving us a small smile and heading through the door into the kitchen, “Give me two minutes.”

I kept hugging Dan until Andy returned, when my duties changed to helping him drink hot chocolate. His hands were shaking, hence my request of a takeaway cup, but if I didn’t help, he was going to get it all down his chin and probably all over his shirt. Dan had his left hand on the cup, I had my right, and between us, we managed to get the drink safely to his mouth. It was never a skill I thought I’d develop, being a pro at helping my soulmate drink out of a cup or glass, but here I was. He needed the help sometimes and I was happy to give it to him.

I knew the hot drink would help him, give him a bit of warmth, a bit of sugar. His body was going to need a lot more than that to recover though. Ideally, he needed to go home, lie down and get some sleep, but he was meant to be working for another two hours.

Looking to Andy for help, I asked my question, “Is there anyone who can take the rest of his shift? I think he really should go home.”

“I'll do it,” Andy said, “I was meant to be finishing up the now, but don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, to be polite, “You've already done so much.”

“It's fine, honestly,” Andy nodded, “I don't mind working another couple of hours.”

Dan looked like he was about to protest, but Andy shut him up before he could get there, “Dan, Phil’s right, I think you should go home. I really don't mind finishing your shift.”

“Okay,” Dan said, still sounding a little weak, taking the last sip of his hot chocolate, then nuzzling further into my side, “Thank you.”

“Phil,” Dan started after a while, “D’you think you’d recognise her? Could you check if she’s still in the cafe? I don’t think I could leave with her still here. I feel kinda trapped.”

“Yeah, I remember her from halloween,” I nodded, “Can we not use the back door?”

Dan looked up at Andy questioningly, clearly needing the authority of someone who had been here a bit longer, “I don’t see why not, but I’ll go and check with Ben.”

“Thanks,” I said to Andy, as they made their way to the kitchen.

Andy came back with the news that yes, we could leave via the backdoor. This came as quite a relief to Dan, as although he was not fully recovered, he was desperate to go. As Dan was already half wearing my coat, I helped him get his arms into it and zipped it up in front of him. I lifted his coat off his hook and put it on myself; it was a bit of a tight fit, but I wasn’t going to steal his warmth.

“You look after yourself Dan, get some rest, and let me know if you’d rather stay home tomorrow because I can take the shift,” Andy said to Dan, putting their arms around him in a loose hug.

Andy’s hug only lasted about a second, then they moved away giving me a small smile, “I know you take good care of him, Phil; make sure he makes the right decision about tomorrow.”

Andy opened the back door for us, and with an arm around Dan, we made our way outside. We said goodbye to Andy, me thanking them so much for all they had done to help Dan. We made our way along the alley that ran behind the shops, not stopping until we had rounded the corner. It was Dan who had stopped first, turning into me for another hug.

Bringing my arms around him and my face up next to his, I mumbled to him, “Something wrong?”

“Just felt I needed another hug, maybe couldn’t lose myself in it so much with Andy there,” Dan mumbled, shakily exhaling against my neck.

“I get that; you said sh-they get jealous of guys hugging, right? That you don’t want to make h-them feel down about it?” I said, stumbling a bit over the pronouns I wasn’t quite used to using.

“Yeah,” Dan nodded, “Andy’s mostly chill with hugging people, but I think they crave the feeling of hugging as a flat chested person. I can’t completely understand, but generally I try to avoid doing anything super masculine or bringing up anything that’ll make them feel feminine or uncomfortable.”

“Speaking of uncomfortable, how are you feeling?” I asked Dan, noticing that he was a bit more talkative.

“Shaky, tired, still a bit scared and shaken up, but alive,” Dan told me, sighing.

“Well let’s get you home and we can either talk about it or I can let you sleep, whatever you want,” I nodded, knowing we would need to figure out what was best for him first. “The car’s still up at the college so we’ve got a little walk, but I think you can do it.”

“Just stick with me, yeah?” Dan asked, a little uncertainly.

“Of course,” I said, giving him a little squeeze, “I’m not going to leave you even for two seconds at the moment.”

As we pulled apart our hug, I found Dan’s hand, interlocking our fingers and giving it a squeeze, “I’m right here.”

We set off walking, back to my college, back to our car, hands joined, shoulders brushing as we stuck as close together as we could. Dan’s hand was a little shaky, a little clammy, and he himself was quite quiet, but I knew he’d be okay, he just needed some privacy and some rest.

On reaching the car, I opened the passenger door for Dan and kept supporting him, with a hand on his back, until he was settled in the seat. I quickly hurried around the front of the car and joined him inside, ready to take him home.

I did the reverse process when we arrived at our flat, opening his door and joining hands again once he was out. We got up the stairs fine, with there not being so many of them these days, but I could see it was still a bit of a struggle.

As I unlocked the door, I gave Dan a couple of instructions so he didn’t go straight off to bed without taking care of himself, “Go and get changed into something comfy, go to the bathroom or whatever you need to do and come to the sofa. I’m gonna get some water and a couple of other things and I’ll meet you there.”

I left Dan at our bedroom door, knowing he would manage to get sorted out by himself. I made my way to the kitchen, filling a mug with water for Dan and flicking the kettle on in case he decided he wanted some tea later.

I sat the water down on a table by the couch, then went to retrieve a blanket from the comfy chair across the room. I couldn’t think of anything else to get him; that would depend how he was feeling. Maybe he’d need paracetamol, maybe he’d want a bath, but I felt he’d probably want to go straight to bed.

“Hey,” I greeted Dan, as he arrived in pyjamas and a hoodie, “Come sit down, let’s talk about how you’re feeling?”

“Not the best,” Dan mumbled, settling himself between my legs.

“Right, let’s start with how you’re feeling physically? Tired? Sore? Shaky?” I prompted him, pulling up the blanket and trying to make sure he was comfortable.

“A little shaky, tired, but I can deal with that,” Dan told me, relaxing into me a little.

“And mentally?” I asked slowly, “D’you want to sit and have a chat for a little bit?”

“That would be good,” Dan nodded, sighing, “I still feel really on edge. I kind of feel like I want to talk to my therapist but she’s probably busy and you’re here so…”

“If you want to call her and see I can help?” I suggested, wanting to do what I could.

“I’m not sure I’m honestly in a state to speak to anyone else,” Dan mumbled indecisively.

“Will I do for the moment and you can maybe call her, say tomorrow when you’re feeling up to it?” I suggested.

“Yeah, that would be good,” Dan nodded, pulling the blanket up to his chin, “Could you pass me that water?”

As Dan took a few sips of water, I thought about what I was going to ask him. I knew that Nora had come in for a coffee and a doughnut, that he’d clearly had a panic attack and taken his medication, but I didn’t know where his mind was during the whole process.

I started the conversation gently by asking Dan if he’d managed to make the coffee for her, how much he had managed before he fled to the back. I was impressed to hear that he’d managed to make her the coffee, get her the doughnut and even do the transaction and change. We then went onto his feelings as he’d gone about that: the utter panic, the realisation that his body was able to go through the motions of making a cappuccino without his mind really being there.

We had to take a break in the conversation, as when Dan started to explain where his mind was during the first few minutes he spent in the back room, it got a bit too much for him to deal with again.

“Breathe,” I said, running my hand over his chest. “You need me to help you or are you okay?”

“M’okay,” Dan nodded, his chest rising and falling rather forcefully beneath my hand.

I stayed quiet while Dan focused on his breathing, letting him focus without distraction for a while. When I did start talking to him again, I decided against picking up where we left off. I had experienced enough of Dan's panic attack to piece together vaguely how he would have felt.

“I think you've maybe talked enough for today,” I said acknowledging his exhausted state, “Unless there's anything else you want to get off you mind?”

“I think I'm good,” Dan murmured, “Thanks for listening. I feel a lot better after talking to you.”

“I think we should get dinner early, maybe watch something and then you can go to bed early,” I suggested, resting my chin on his shoulder for a moment. “Does that sound good to you? I'm just thinking if you take a nap now, you might not sleep so well later.”

“Yeah sounds decent,” Dan agreed, “I think I can manage to stay awake a bit longer.”

“What do you want for dinner?” I asked, “Not got anything planned so it's your choice. What's going to make you feel good?”

Dan looked thoughtful for a minute, but eventually gave me an answer, “I’d like spaghetti? Just make a simple tomato sauce or something?”

“Okay, I can do that,” I nodded, glad he had picked out something quick and simple; it meant I could spend a bit longer just cuddling with him before I had to get up and make it. “I'll start making it at five.”

For the half hour or so that followed, I just sat with Dan, holding him in an embrace that was comforting for him but warm and cosy for both of us. I was glad he was okay, maybe still a little tired and wobbly, but okay.

When I got up to make dinner, I left him with a little kiss, only going as far as the kitchen, from where I could still see him. I set about boiling the kettle, weighing out the pasta, getting out the sauce ingredients. I could feel dan watching me, so every so often I would look up and give him a smile, a little acknowledgement that although I was cooking, yes I still cared about his presence.

We talked a little as I cooked, Dan filling me in on a couple of other, less dramatic things, that had happened earlier on in the day. I told him a little about my day at college; us sharing our days had become part of evening routine, something that helped us stay as close as we could as a couple.

When the pasta was ready, I served it into two bowls and joined Dan on the sofa with it. We usually ate at the table, a habit we’d gotten into in the early days because it was better for digestion, but I felt it really shouldn’t matter now with how good he’d had been doing lately.

We put a episode of a TV show on as we ate, slurping spaghetti but not talking over it. When we finished eating, we sat the bowls to the side and slowly started to curl up together again, the idea of cuddling being too tempting to resist. The TV show ended, so we put the next episode on, but it seemed that Dan gradually seemed to lose concentration, eyes fluttering shut, slowly falling asleep.

As he fell asleep, he fell away from me a little, so not wanting him to fall off the sofa, I managed to get up and let him have the space to himself. I’d let him sleep for a little bit while I sorted a few things out, but I think he really ought to get to bed. I retrieved Dan’s phone from the join in the cushions and thought about how he was doing in terms of working tomorrow. He really should text Andy tonight, and while he probably wouldn’t mind me doing it for him, I wanted to have his word first.

I pocketed his phone, hoping that would remind me to talk to him about it when I woke him up to get him ready for bed. I collected up our pasta bowls and drink glasses, taking them to the kitchen to put in the dishwasher. I got the sink filling to wash up the pasta pot, taking the opportunity to do it now as I knew I wouldn’t appreciate seeing it in the morning. When the sink was full and I shut the water off, I noticed a noise coming from behind me where Dan was; it sounded like choking. I spun around to see him appearing to choke on something in his sleep. I hurried out of the kitchen, grabbing our living room bin on the way because I had no idea what this situation was going to bring.

I rushed over to Dan, pulling him upright and getting his head forward over the bin. I made a judgement and thumped him on the back, hoping that would help because I had no idea what else to do. It must’ve been enough to dislodge the problem, because Dan threw up a little bit, still half asleep and confused.

I rubbed Dan’s back gently now, thankful he had stopped choking, but still feeling a tension there, “It’s okay if you need to throw up more; got a bin here for you.”

Dan mumbled something, but I didn’t catch it as he gagged and threw up a bit more. I continued to rub his back, hoping it was at least a little soothing.

When he appeared to have stopped struggling, I spoke softly, “Are you okay? You started choking in your sleep but I’m not sure why.”

Dan shrugged and looked down into the bin, gagging violently as he saw its contents.

“Dan, if I can help you to the bathroom, you won't have to look at that?” I suggested, knowing it would be best to get him in front of a toilet asap.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dan mumbled, giving me his hand so I could help him up.

With Dan on his feet, holding the bin, I steered him all the way along the hallway and through our bedroom to the ensuite. I left him for a moment to take the bin away to the other bathroom - I would deal with that later - but returned quickly.

I sat by Dan’s side, pushing his sleep hair off his forehead and resting a hand on his back. We were there for about twenty minutes, Dan managing to contain himself and eventually admitting he was feeling okay again. During this time I got him a glass of water, which he sipped slowly on, hopefully helping to soothe his throat and stomach.

We shuffled away from the toilet a little, still sitting on the floor as Dan was feeling a bit weak. I couldn’t quite understand what had caused him to choke and throw up, and neither could he. We eventually came on an idea that maybe he just hadn’t had enough time to digest his dinner properly before he fell asleep. Most people would be fine, but Dan’s stomach just wasn’t quite right sometimes; something that made it clear he was still in recovery.

“I think we should text Andy and ask if they can take your shift,” I said to Dan, “I’d just been thinking about texting them to say you’d make it, but I don’t think you should now.”

“I’ll be fine in the morning,” Dan tried to insist, his weakened voice not helping his case.

“Dan, you threw up, so until you can be absolutely sure you don't have norovirus or something, you're not setting foot in a kitchen,” I told him firmly, “Although we think its your ED, we can’t be sure, okay?”

Dan nodded quietly, making me realise I’d maybe sounded a bit harsh, but it was difficult for me not to with learning a lot of food hygiene in college.

“Sorry if that sounded harsh,” I said softly, not wanting to leave things like that, “I didn’t mean for it to come out so strong.”

I retrieved Dan’s phone from my pocket and opened up a new text to Andy. I typed out a message for him, making clear it was from me, but getting him to approve it.

Hey, it’s Phil. Could you maybe take Dan's shift for tomorrow? He was doing alright, but he just threw up his dinner and while it's probably just his ED recovery, it's probably best not to have him in a kitchen until we're sure.

Dan nodded his approval to the message and hit send himself, handing the phone back to me while we waited for a response.

Of course, I’ve got it covered. I hope he feels better, plenty of rest’ll do him good

It had only taken them a minute to reply, which was quite a relief as I wanted to get Dan to bed and we really needed to know the answer first. I read it out to him and he visibly relaxed, leaning into my side.

“Can we go to bed now?” Dan yawned, sounding so tired that he was almost on the verge of tears.

“Get your teeth brushed and pee and whatever, then yes,” I told him, “I’m going to email my tutor while you get ready, okay.”

I sat on the edge of the bath while Dan did what he needed to do, typing out an email to Mark, my college tutor.

Hi Mark, I think it's best that I don't attend tomorrow. My soulmate’s been sick; I suspect it's nothing contagious as he’s recovering from an eating disorder, but I think it's best to be on the safe side and not come into the kitchen. Will see you the day after, presuming all is well. Thanks, Phil

When Dan was finished, I followed him through the bedroom and helped him get settled into bed. I sat next to him, on my side of the bed, but I had a few things to do first before I would be ready to go to bed myself.

“Get some sleep, love,” I told him, leaning down to give him a goodnight kiss, “I’ll join you soon and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You stayin’ ‘til I’m ‘sleep?” Dan mumbled.

“Yes, of course,” I nodded, running my hand down his duvet-shrouded side.

Dan didn’t say anything else after that, drifting off to sleep and snoring lightly, getting the rest that he needed.

When I was sure Dan would stay asleep, I got up to deal with the few things I had to get done. I finished cleaning the pot I had abandoned in the kitchen sink, I dealt with the bin Dan had been sick in, and finally I locked up. I got myself ready for bed quickly, making the decision to shower in the morning so that I wouldn’t disturb Dan’s sleep just now. I knew when I joined him in bed that I wouldn’t be able to get to sleep yet, so I sat with just my lamp on and read for a while. Dan was feeling fragile and staying with him when he was in a vulnerable state was very important to me.

--

The next day, Dan was absolutely fine, which was definitely a relief. We’d both stayed home as a precaution, but it proved to be nothing more than what we suspected.

With everything that had happened the previous day, I made sure that this one was calm and relaxed for Dan. In the morning we took a bath together, then throughout the day, I made sure that his diet was made up of simple things: toast, soup, fruit, and that we ate at the table like we usually did.

Dan just had his bad days now and then, that was something that just happened. Sometimes his anxiety would play up, sometimes his digestive system wouldn’t quite function correctly, but this time they came at once. It was a bit of an annoyance for him and put him in a bit of a low mental state for a few days, but as usual, he was okay, he got through it.

He made sure to speak to his therapist about the whole thing, another appointment which I joined him at for support. Having had a few days to process the events, he could now explain it well and I could tell that talking it through again to her helped him to get his thoughts in order.

We all hoped that Nora wouldn’t start to frequent the café, but we would look into options if it became a problem. This possibility would give Dan a little anxiety about going to work sometimes, but in one of his flashbacks she’d stated that she never wanted to see him again. That was something I would remind Dan of when he got down about it, the one memory of her which he didn’t actually mind recalling.

Next Chapter (Epilogue) =>

[colbjorn]

Identifying somebody with Depression/Anxiety

I get this question a lot, having lived with depression and anxiety for a little over 11 years, I get quite a few parents and colleagues asking how to notice these things in other people. I’m not a doctor, I can’t offer a professional diagnosis, this is purely based on living with these conditions.

Expressions are mostly irrelevant

Anybody who lives with these conditions and don't want people to know about it, whether it's because they're attempting to hide from it or hide it FROM people, the first thing you learn to do is put on a fake smile. It's easy to master and people with these conditions will show you the same heartfelt smile that you can give them. Chances are you're not going to see it in their face or their smile. We live in a generation where when someone asks how you are, the automatic response that's expected of you is "I'm fine."

What to watch out for instead

Body Language

This is super important, especially when they think someone isn't looking. Living with depression is exhausting, especially when you're fighting it alone or still aren't sure what it is you're fighting. It's like carrying a heavy weight, so you're likely to see slouching, the sense that your limbs are heavy, I know for me personally, confidence and communication was a big issue. I kept my head down and my chin mostly pressed to my chest. Holding my head up was hard, both physically and mentally. Similarly, in the anxious spectrum, you'll see many of the same symptoms, but it's also not uncommon to see somebody inexplicably trembling, appearing to be nervous, scanning a room, tapping and in the most extreme cases, panic attacks. Panic attacks come quickly, violently and often without warning and can be an incredibly traumatic experience for the person experiencing it. You're going to see tears, a shortness of breath, massively increased heart rate and the temporary inability to think rationally.

Interaction with others/environments

Remember when I said that living with these conditions is exhausting? When you're trying to spot someone who is in a potentially dangerous situation due to them suffering from an undiagnosed mental condition, there are a few things to watch out for in junction with the other signs listed above. It's very common to see a complete lack of motivation to complete even basic tasks, it's likely you'll notice a lack of self worth, hygiene may suffer a bit, there may be trouble maintaining eye contact when communicating with people, stutttering or the inability to focus on a topic in a conversation i've noticed also isn't uncommon if you can engage in conversation at all. In my experience, and in similar experiences with people I've encountered who share this disease, answers are short and sweet, they may seem uninterested, indifferent or down right distant. This isn't somebody trying to be intentionally disrespectful. What you're seeing is a person fighting to understand themselves and who are convinced that they have no role to play in the world around them.

Not necessarily what they say but how they say it

In addition to learning how to hide your emotions through facial expressions, it's also possible to do the same thing through speech patterns, though it's a little more difficult. You wouldn't likely spot a difference unless you're particularly close with someone, say a parent, a brother or a life-long friend. From what I've gathered, conversations don't change as drastically as you'd expect them too when comparing someone who is anxious or depressed compared to someone who isn't, the script will generally be the same, but how they read it may change. They may seem a little more monotone, maybe a tad sarcastic all the way down to seeming lethargic or uncomfortable. Again it's not uncommon for the person to seem distant, or to have trouble maintaining eye contact.

Changes in habits and behaviors

Full disclosure, I'm a survivor. On the day of my 18th I did something really stupid that nearly cost me my life. It's very important to note and even more important to acknowledge that nobody attempts suicide because they feel they have any other choice. It's a last resort for people who feel scared, alone, abandoned and unheard. Who feel like they're screaming for anybody to take notice and having everybody turn around and ignore them, or belittle them or not take them seriously. The latter being the culprit of many situations. As a last ditch effort I poured my soul out to three people who were supposed to be trained to help me, and all three times I got "It's nothing. Just a phase, a rut, a rough patch. You'll get over it." It's a horrible shame that I had to do something so drastic in order to be heard, because I am one of the rare few who got a second chance after having taken it so far.

The reason I bring this up is because in the days leading to that decision, my mannerisms changed drastically. This certainly varies from person to person, but people seem to agree that there's a sense of finality looming over top of you. I became incredibly distant, cut off all contact with just about everybody, stopped answering phonecalls. My bed was made, my room was cleaned, the kitchen was cleaned, the pets were fed, the laundry was folded and I left. Now, ordinarily this wouldn't be a grave indication that anything was wrong, quite the opposite in fact! The chores are done, the pets are fed, the kitchen is spotless, why is this a bad thing? Remember what we mentioned earlier? The lack of motivation, the procrastination, the less than ideal hygiene? This all boils down to somebody who is likely to live a little sloppily which often means messy sheets, laundry on the floor and a stack of unwashed dishes.

foot note

What's most important about the above and in life beyond is that everyone faces these diseases differently and in varying severity. Each person may show all of these symptoms or only one of them. Some will require a doctor or therapist and possibly medication while others manage to get a handle on it without as much support. The list above is accumulated through over a decade of personal experience and similarities from notes I've swapped with others who battle the same war I do over the years, and again, with no professional medical consultation. If you think you may be in trouble, please see a doctor!

These diseases, they trick you into thinking that you're all alone, that no one is coming to help you because no one could possibly understand the horrors that you're seeing in your head. So you feel isolated and don't have a coherent way of explaining how scared you are, scared of yourself, scared of the world around you, scared to be alone with your thoughts and when you lose any and all hope that anybody in this world could help you or understand what you're experiencing, that's when you do something that you can't walk away from. We're not violent people, we're not crazy and we don't want to hurt anybody. We just want help.

Finally, to any person who reads this, to every person who see's this in their feed who struggles with any or all of the above, I turned 26 this past April of 2018. I've been alive 8 years since my attempt, 8 years longer than I ever planned to be. There is help, there are people who understand, there are people who can help you, it gets easier, you don't have to fight your demons alone and there are people who will fight beside you.

If you or someone you love is in danger, or having thoughts of suicide, please, please contact the local crisis line for your area. These people are not scary, horrible monsters that want to confine you in an asylum, they truly do want to help

For a full list of crisis lines in your area, visit THIS LINK

[eeveelutionsforequality]

Hey vape, i dunno if you have clinical anxiety specifically, but what do you do when you're feeling really anxious and it's out of control? I just had a pretty bad panic attack that lasted a few hours and I really thought I was gonna die because I felt like I couldn't breathe. My sister was around so I had an anchor this time, but what do i do when im alone? Sorry for dumping my problems on you, but you're the only person I know that would really understand my problem. Have a nice day :)

Don't feel like you have to apologize for asking for advice! You're not dumping your problems on me at all! I wouldn't say that I was okay with answering people's questions in regards to this sort of thing if I felt at all like I couldn't listen to people's problems!

I have phobias, OCD, generalized anxiety disorder, and a few other conditions that have it as a symptom, and how (or even if) I deal with it sort of depends on which is causing it and what sort of anxiety it is and why I'm anxious and what the circumstances are and all sorts of things.

Firstly though, have you been checked for asthma? I know that my anxiety is one of the worst triggers for my asthma, and a panic attack leading to an asthma attack creates this cycle of panic and breathlessness that really isn't good. I'd recommend just making sure of that, if you can.

If you're having a panic attack that affects your breathing, try to remove yourself from any sources of panic (for example, if it's an annoying but not dangerous or warning noise, like a ticking clock, cover your ears or go to another room) and just focus on getting your breathing in order.

At 8:05 in this video, the Anxiety character runs over a breathing exercise with Thomas that you can repeat to get your breathing in order: https://youtu.be/wr17Kq5bmtI

Also, I do recommend that entire series: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYA7DZ_sbUzvB1l6KsO5LZV2rrk2u1xl4

While viewing parts of yourself as different, separate entities isn't necessarily good for you if taken to the extreme (in fact that can be detrimental), viewing a side of yourself as something with a more complex array of causal factors and a need for your care and compassion is actually really really helpful, and Thomas handles explaining things really tactfully (there's also quite a bit of advice scattered amidst various episodes about dealing with anxiety).

I saw a post on here about viewing your anxiety as something that's afraid and needs your love and calming, and I do try to view it somewhat like that - like, I try not to think of it as a corruption in my brain that's attacking me, but more like a part of me that's scared and that I need to care for and work to understand.

Because of my agoraphobia, being outside is really hard on my anxiety - everything in my head just becomes a fuzzy mush as soon as I step out of my front door, it's like a half-dissociated state where I feel like I'm mostly on auto-pilot because I'm too confused and stressed to really concentrate on anything that I'm doing, and sometimes I'll do really stupid things (like pick up entirely the wrong shopping) because I'm too inside my panicked thoughts to actually pay attention to what my body is doing. Other times I can get so panicked that I collapse when I'm outside.

If I'm at home alone and I get super anxious, irritable, or angry (or some combination therein) - I'll often put on really loud and really angry music, and work through the emotions in a daydream instead. Marilyn Manson has been my choice of artist over the last few days, but it varies... Combichrist, Angelspit, Aesthetic Perfection, Rammstein, Otep, Metallica, Mindless Self Indulgence, that sort of thing. I used to shut myself in this really small cupboard, but I've taken to just hiding under a duvet lately because that's way more comfortable and easier on the joints. Then I'll usually daydream about a scenario in which I can just violently beat on something to the music (zombie apocalypse, superhero battle, that sort of thing).

There's more kinds of anxiousness and more weird personal coping mechanisms that I have, but I don't particularly know how helpful those would be to talk about here, to be honest. Some of them (like the intensity of the daydreams because of MaDD, or the fact that I have DID so sometimes stress will trigger a switch) aren't so much implementable coping mechanisms as they are my brain just glitching itself into somehow working with its abysmal circuitry. Others of them (like if I'm trying to deal with the anxiousness from psychosis or intrusive thoughts) aren't always the healthiest or safest coping mechanisms.

I think if you're alone and having a panic attack, the first thing to do is to get away from any physical sources of anxiety and focus on getting your breathing back to normal. You won't die - try not to add those concerns to the already too large pile of worries.

Then, once your breathing is more steady and you can keep that up, try some grounding techniques - hugging a pet or a teddy bear, stroking the fur/material, repeating some positive affirmations ("It's going to be okay, I'm okay, I'm safe" sorts of things), and keeping your breathing steady. Counting something like beads on a bracelet can be really helpful.

If there's something that you have to deal with immediately, then get that over with as quickly as possible (for example, if there's a spider that's caused the panic attack, kill it, remove it, or cover it with a bowl/cup as quickly as you can). Then repeat any calming techniques as necessary.

If you like maths or a TV show or something, then there might be something else that you could say/do to distract and calm your mind - I sometimes do maths equations in my head if I feel an oncoming panic attack (for example, 1+1 is 2, 2+2 is 4, 4+4 is 8, 8+8 is 16, 16+16 is 32, and on and on in that pattern, because it's a progression that gets more difficult as it goes along so it eases me into being distracted), but some people might sing a song from their favourite video game, or repeat a particularly long quote that a favourite character says, or something like that.

After that, distractions can be good for a little while - watching a half an hour TV show, listening to music, playing a video game, or something that requires just enough concentration to keep you gripped but not enough to be a strain - don't rush yourself into trying to think and plan, just relax but don't give yourself space to overthink. I've also found that cleaning my teeth is good for that - I clench my jaw a lot when I'm panicking, so cleaning my teeth for a few minutes really helps with the pain that causes.

There's also learning mindfulness techniques - but that's a process, it's not something that you can necessarily just implement tomorrow. It's definitely worth researching and worth considering as a more long-term solution. Being able to neutrally observe emotions and situations, to listen to the worries in your mind non-judgmentally, and so on, can be really good for maintaining a calm state and for actually tackling some of the causes of the panic.

Similarly, talking to a professional is an important long-term solution.

A warm drink also really helps me after the panic has died down - preferably something without caffeine and with marshmallows.

I know some people who've decorated little shoeboxes with wrapping paper and filled them with calming and comforting objects - textures that help with grounding, fond memories in photograph form, cute toys or teddies, positive quotes, or whatever helps them feel good. When they're anxious, they go to the shoebox and look through it for a little while until they feel better.

Honestly though, there are times when it just kind of feels like I have to remind myself that the panic won't last forever, and wait it out, and then work on getting myself back together after it's over - if I keep trying to fight it and worrying about it, then that only adds more strain. The music really helps with that, with just kind of accepting that I'm feeling things and that I'm going to feel them for a bit, but then they're going to go away and I can get up and have a warm drink and watch some mindless TV and start to feel like myself again.

I know that some people are helped by phoning a loved one and talking it through with them - but since phone calls themselves can be a source of anxiety (they are for me, given all of my issues with my voice and speaking at all), I don't know how effective that would be for you.

I hope that there was something in there that helped! I've been awake for about twenty-two hours now, and I've barely had any sleep for the last few nights, so I'm sorry if exhaustion means that I'm not at my best lately.

~ Vape

[incombuz]

How To Spot Signs Of Anxiety In Your Child

When I asked Professor Cathy Creswell, a Clinical Advisor to Anxiety UK if it surprised her parents were being taught the way to recognise symptoms of hysteria in children under 10 (covering eating disorders, panic attacks and compulsive disorders), she answered “no.”

She went on to say: “In fact, this is often a very good thing.

Anxiety and stress disorders are the foremost common sort of emotional difficulty experienced across a lifespan, and that we know that they need a very early onset with half all people that have serious difficulties with anxiety first having those problems by the age of 11.

anxiety in children Despite this, we've found in recent studies that a really small proportion of youngsters who have problems with anxiety and their families receive any support, which may be a terrible shame.”

But are there signs that as a society we are putting an excessive amount of pressure on our youngsters – parents and faculty included?

“This may be a tricky question as although the perception is usually anxiety in children is becoming more common, we don’t have the info within the UK to properly test this.

In 2018, a national survey of psychological state in children and children was repeated for the primary time since 2004, so soon we'll be during a better position to ascertain if anxiety in children is on the rise and if so why.

However we must remember we are becoming far better at spotting an anxious child, which is additionally an honest thing.

We work with many parents and carers who tell us that they or other relations were anxious children within the past and it had been never recognised or acted upon.”

But with the endless amount of clubs and after-school activities, plus the pressure of SATS tests bubbling away on the classroom sidelines, surely it's important that youngsters are just allowed to ‘play?’

Professor Creswell says “It certainly fits with our understanding of hysteria to assume if children are in environments that instil a fear of failure then we'll see increases in difficulties particularly among those children susceptible to anxiety.“

What are the signs of hysteria in children? Everyone experiences fear, worry or anxiety sometimes, but consistent with Professor Creswell, this is often not necessarily anything to stress about. It can in some circumstances be helpful.

But it becomes a drag when it's out of proportion to what's happening and interferes with lifestyle.

Children with separation anxiety are typically concerned that something will happen to themselves or one or more of their parents/carers if they're not together. separation anxiety in children This can show itself through clinginess and difficulty separating to travel to high school or to a friend’s house. the kid may become tearful or have a tantrum.

Children with social mental disorder are normally worried about being evaluated during a negative way by others. they'll worry that folks think they're stupid or might do something others will tease. It can show itself through fears in speaking, eating or participating in activities when certain people are present.

In children, stress is usually communicated physically – psychosomatic reactions, including stomach problems, headaches, fatigue, sleep disorders, and problems with getting to the rest room, could also be signals that something is wrong.

Sudden changes in behaviour also can be a sign.

The book Giving Sorrow Words notes: “When an honest student starts getting Fs, that deserves attention, and therefore the same is true when a toddler who was previously a troublemaker turns into an angel.”

“Children who click saying ‘Nobody likes me’ really are telling you that they don’t like themselves,” says Dr Loraine Stern. an equivalent could be true when a toddler suddenly starts bragging or exaggerating accomplishments.

Though seemingly expressing the other of low self-esteem, boasting about real or imagined accomplishments could also be an attempt to beat deep feelings of inadequacy.

Of course, all kids get sick, occasionally misbehave and knowledge periodic disappointment with themselves, but once you start to note a pattern and no immediate cause is clear, you ought to weigh the meaning of the signals.

So what are Professor Creswell’s tips for helping a toddler with anxiety? A lot of oldsters worry that by chatting with their child about anxiety they'll make it worse. The important thing is to think not about ‘whether’ you mention it but ‘how’ you mention it.

When you are talking about fears, be curious. attempt to understand them. What do they think will happen and why?

Some children might not be ready to say exactly what they're worried about beyond that they feel scared and obtain upset.

communication is vital when parenting But that’s ok. you'll work thereupon. Acknowledge your child’s thoughts and feelings and show you appreciate how hard it must be.

To overcome their fears they're going to got to put them to the test. What can they/you do to seek out out if what they fear will really happen?

For example if s/he is worried they're going to be taken if you're not there, could they struggle to be aside from you during a different a part of the house for a brief period of time?

Enlist others around you to assist. If the difficulties are at college, speak to staff to form sure there's a teaching assistant or other adult who can get your child busy and involved in an enticing and important job on arrival.

Plan realistic rewards to assist motivate your child.

Make sure your child knows how proud and impressed you're that they need put their fears to the test.

Researchers at Loyola University of Chicago, USA, studied 400 children age 9 to 13 years old, from wide-ranging backgrounds and checked out how they coped with stress.

Among the five hundred who routinely handled difficult situations well, the researchers found three common characteristics, consistent with American Health magazine:

they were willing to invite help, share their concerns, and seek emotional support from an adult—often, but not always, a parent

they attended take responsibility for his or her own behaviour and sought to influence their peers to avoid harm

they sought out quiet time or recreation to alleviate stress.

Conversely, the researchers found three tendencies that reduced children’s resiliency:

resorting to aggression

self-destructive behaviour like substance abuse

avoiding problems instead of handling them

Some temporary relief may come from helping children to relax, going for a walk, changing routine or environment, or taking note of soothing music.

Make sure your child gets enough sleep. Set regular times to travel to bed and to urge up, a minimum of on school days and workdays.

Allow them enough time to unwind before bed. Avoid exercise (so no late night trips to the park) within three hours before getting to bed, and avoid heavy snacks and caffeine on the brink of bedtime.

When it’s time to travel to bed, attempt to make the bedroom dark, quiet, and cozy.

Let your child know that the emotions they need are often reduced; anxiety is treatable.

Let them know that speaking about how they feel reduce feelings of hysteria and stress. it's going to also help them to understand that they're not alone in how they're feeling.

Sociologist Ronald L. Pitzer says: “All too often, efforts by children and teenagers to speak intense feelings are minimised, denied, rationalised, or ignored by parents.”

Reassure your child that you simply understand, that you simply will never laugh or dismiss their feelings; are you able to give them an example of once you felt similarly?

Avoid language like:

“Stop your crying”

“You shouldn’t feel that way.”

“It isn’t really that bad.”

Could you instead say: “I see that something has made you sad.” “You look really upset.” “I know you want to be disappointed.”

The book ‘How to speak so Kids Will Listen & Listen so Kids Will Talk’ makes a legitimate observation during this regard: “The more you are trying to push a child’s unhappy feelings away, the more he becomes stuck in them.

The more comfortably you'll accept the bad feelings, the better it's for teenagers to abandoning of them. i assume you'll say that if you would like to possess a cheerful family, you’d better be prepared to allow the expression of tons of unhappiness.”

If they find it hard to speak, could they write a letter about their feelings instead? Or if they’re still young, draw pictures for instance how they feel?

What example does one as parent set when it involves stress and anxiety?

Do you attempt to reduce stress by resorting to violence? Punching the wall? Grabbing a glass (or 3) of wine?

Then don't be surprised when your child acts out his anxiety during a similar way.

Do you suffer in silence when deeply disturbed? If so, how are you able to demand that your child be open and trusting?

Are stressful feelings so hidden in your household that they're denied instead of acknowledged and worked out?

Then don't be startled by the physical and emotional toll it's going to combat your child, for any plan to bury anxiety will normally only increase the severity of its expression.

A 2019 UK study found that as many as 66% of mums and dads claim their child regularly feels anxious about lessons, homework – and social aspects like bullying and friendships.

Almost 30% of the oldsters who took part within the study said learning the way to manage their child’s anxiety is now more important to them than their academic success, with 63% saying it as even as important.

To combat school stress, 56% of oldsters now practice mindfulness with their child reception, to undertake and ease their mind about the daily stresses and strains.

Mindfulness is understood to market good mental wellbeing and help children deal with difficulties whilst also encouraging them to raised manage the tutorial demands placed on them.

mindfullness exercises can help children with anxiety British author and mental campaigner Jonny Benjamin, whose own psychological state issues started at the age of 10, said:

“It’s so important for young children to recognise feelings of hysteria, be ready to speak openly about how they're feeling, and find out how to handle them.

“Learning about one’s mind and emotional regulation are invaluable skills that can’t be taught early enough..

“Mindfulness has been life-changing on behalf of me and I’d encourage as many grade school children as possible to require part. i do know of numerous people, both young and old, who really enjoy mindful breathing and relaxation techniques.

It may be that trying to scale back their anxiety by undertaking certain activities on your own initiative might not be enough to assist your child with their anxiety and you'll got to access professional help.

Speak to your child’s school or Dr to debate having access to local counselling services.

If your child cares or actually attempts suicide, “Seek immediate professional help,” urges the book Depression — What Families Should Know.

“Treating potential suicides isn't employment for amateurs, even those that care about the depressed person an excellent deal.

You may think you’ve talked your loved one out of suicide when all he or she is doing is clamming up and keeping all the emotions inside until they explode with horrifying results.”

If you're worried about yourself or someone you recognize, please contact the below organisations:

[meditationadvise]

4 Ways to Curb a Panic Attack 

My connection with stress and anxiety began as I neared completion of legislation institution. There was so much stress to "succeed," to locate an excellent task and also confirm the financial investment of three years of my life.

The panic assaults would come like waves. They would start gradually and after that build momentum until I was totally surpassed. I would certainly experience physical signs and symptoms, like blurred or one-track mind, and also would seem like the ground had vanished underneath my feet. I had a tough time capturing my breath.

At the moment I was not familiar with mindfulness and reflection and the considerable advantages that might arise from consistent method. At some point I discovered the best ways to change my partnership to my anxious thoughts as well as sensations through mindfulness practice, and also at the same time, found methods to suppress the anxiousness that used to overwhelm me.

Through mindfulness training we recognize that our thoughts and feelings are constantly transforming, as well as learn to suit them with a sense of meekness and also acceptance.

Research has actually revealed that mindfulness reflection is a reliable means to reduce anxiousness. Through mindfulness training we acknowledge that our ideas and also sensations are constantly changing, as well as learn how to suit them with a sense of meekness and also approval. With the procedure of focusing non-judgmental recognition ideas, feelings, and also feelings, we reinforce our capacity to observe them without identifying with or being specified by them.

After lots of years of mindfulness method, the panic assaults still come, yet they arrive with much less regularity and intensity. When they do, I utilize a handful of approaches to assist me deal with them on the spot.

How to Curb a Panic Attack

1)  Investigate When I remain in the grip of a certain fear, fear or anxiousness, I ask myself two inquiries:

Is it actually true? I aim to keep in mind that my thoughts typically aren't truths, and also that they are short-term. They resemble the weather condition, travelling through as well as changing all the time, so I don't need to take them so seriously, or end up being connected to them.

Am I ok right now? Often my anxiousness has to do with bother with the future, so it's handy to intentionally concentrate on exactly what's occurring right currently, in the present.

2) Change into taking deep, kicked back breaths When I am captured up in a swirl of distressed thoughts, I'll change my attention to something physical, like deep relaxing breaths, shifting myself from the mental loop that bolsters the nervous sensations as well as relaxing my nerves. For a couple of minutes concentrate on taking deep, soothing breaths. Purposefully take a breath slowly as well as deeply into your stomach as you broaden your lungs. Without any initiative, breathe out normally. Numerous individuals feel relief from anxiousness after just a couple of minutes.

Try this guided breathing practice:

3) Connect to the senses To create some range from distressed, recurring ideas I'll bring my interest to each of the senses, basing myself in the here and now. Wherever you are, take a couple of, sluggish, deep breaths, and also focus your recognition on your surroundings. Take a look around, and take notification of exactly what you see. Simply observe the selection of colors, forms and textures of just what you see, without necessarily developing a viewpoint. Focus your understanding on noise. As you listen, discover exactly what you hear in your environment.

Try paying attention to the quietest noise you listen to, or the loudest noise you listen to. See if you can pay attention without using any labels to your hearing. Next, concentrate your understanding on your feeling of scent. Just what do you scent? Exactly how several various fragrances can you discover? Bring your understanding on your sense of touch. Get to down and also touch the ground under you with your fingertips. Notice the number of various sensations you really feel. See if you can explain them without assuming about whether you like or do not like the sensations.

Try this guided audio reflection to exercise involving your detects:

4) Visualize the release of anxious sensations as a cloud floating away in the sky Take a minute to pause. Really feel the weight of your body and your feet strongly rooted to the ground. See if you could find where the experience of anxiety is situated in your body, such as in your stomach, breast, or head. Slowly and gently permit yourself to really feel the feeling there. Think of that the worried experience of anxiousness has actually gathered in that location in the type of a dark cloud. Photo all of it puffy and also grey.

Take a deep breath, and as you breathe out, imagine that the dark cloud is removed from your body with your outward bound breath. See the dark cloud hanging in front of you a few feet away, then see as the cloud drifts away gradually like a balloon. Keep enjoying the dark cloud drift away until it entirely disappears. Attempt this computer animation to envision releasing negative thoughts.

[leo-dale19]

Where dreams lead

The Serotonin God has led me down many a winding road - I have followed him to the point of exhaustion, he cannot escape me, he is by no means out of sight but he repeatedly disappears and reappears from behind the trees that are the various obstacles of unlucky fate that separate me from permanent reunion with him. Unless I get permanent brain damage, we will meet again and be united with the present moment anew. This lesson goes to show you should never let go of your loved ones, because you have no idea where you’ll end up without them and there are no guarantees. Well, there are, but merely on a divine level.

I would be highly intrigued to know what is currently happening on a subconscious level, what canals of my birth trauma am I currently unconsciously passing through again amidst the current everyday chaos. On saturday night I had the interesting return of 2001: A Space Odyssey into my conscious space. More precisely, I suddenly remembered Peter Hyam’s sequel to Kubrick’s masterpiece, the tight associations it holds with January/February 2012, the longest, grayest, winter I could remember, literally a pale shadow of its 2011 predecessor (although that comparison mainly refers to March and its 2011 analogue). I was convinced that 2001 world of eternal ectasy was truly eternal, I didn’t see how it was subject to physical laws of what chemicals I may or may not have ingested into my body. But God works in strange ways. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V68pnTJwjQU

For the first time in a very long time, I took advantage of a sudden moment of mental lucidity to take pictures of myself looking more or less presentable. This is a rare occurence, as although I do not consider myself unattractive, I have one of the main distinguishing features of a paranoid schizophrenic - I am very, very bad at regularly taking care of myself. One can deifnitely argue that self-absorbedness is more frequent in moments of mental insecurity, which I agree with, but my paranoias go to such extents that I get states where I am totally unaware of myself as “really being there”. Like I am so absorbed in my ego that all I feel is merely my mental image of myself, rather than what I actually look like to other people. So on Saturday I actually had the luck to experience a brief moment of mental lucidity where I was somewhat in limbo between two states - being paranoically anxious and being self-aware enough to realise what I seem like to the outside world. And so I decided a little cam-whoring was necessary, as I could indulge in some potentially constructive self-loving. That is, undeniably still a state of mental insecurity, but not as detached from reality.

Vkontakte has become a bizarre obsession. I plan on keeping my russian interest going for as long as possible, but the group of people I have come to know on Vkontakte know nothing of who I really am and I shamelessly take liberties in the image I create of myself to them. I am aware it is an escape. I often wondered whether they could realise that too, but people aren’t stupid - I know they do, although they obviously can’t complete the rest of the picture as they lack the facts and can only guess at what my true essence is. I think they are strangely tolerant or just bizarrely intrigued - or perhaps quite simply both - by this foreigner who speaks perfect russian, which, if they are to believe him, he learned all by himself. I also suspect life in russia is quite drab so there is no real time to reproach other people for not getting on with their life (although there probably is but more within the social-status confines of their own everyday society) or quite simply to be picky about fantastically weird occurences that you come across: my mum mentioned the USSR made you appreciate the simple things a lot more, and a an anglo-german russian-speaker who lives in france is more bizarre and interesting than it is worthy of cynically questioning. Although those russians are not a rarity either, I can feel a lot of what I was convinced for many years was unique to the English - a merciless contempt for those more talented than one’s self (although the english, as far as I can tell, are still worse and generally obnoxious about it, since it isn’t merely a petty character trait but a whole institutionalised social class mentality). I’ve already come across a few people on my adventures who I plan to never trust or have any serious dealings with, as, I kid you not, it would not surprise me that if we were to meet, they would give me away to the secret police or some shit because of their immature teenage jealousy, making up some pretext to have me taken away for good, away from the world where I may potentially humble them. Russia, I feel,  is one of those countries where truth is a very, very bizarre phenomenon and it is very hard to establish what it is in a country so vast and so varied, the accounts I get of life in Russia differ so much among themselves that it’s impossible to know what really goes on, although inevitably I have been able to attribute certain views to certain precise character types, for example a common archetype is that of the Denial russian: these are generally reasonable looking types, not necessarily extreme-oriented, however they have no interest in a free society, justify the authoritarian regimes they’ve lived through, blatantly deny the existence of certain horrors of russian society to the point where talking to them feels more like reading  a history book on Soviet Propaganda than it does like getting an objective view on what’s going on in the country. I accentuate “reasonable-looking” as I feel in the western world we immediately imagine anybody who supports anything totalitarian as a raving fanatic, but we’ve become quite desensitised and we must remember that evil in the vast majority of cases is criminally banal; and if one gives it some serious thought, it could never be any other way, since evil can only be committed by superficial people for superficial motivations. It is destructive and intentionally illusory, whereas love allows life to grow. It is therefore intriguing to see very ordinary people supporting such great evil in such a petty manner; would they maybe be more worthy of respect if they at least had some finesse to their wrong-doing? These people generally have a very strong vanity streak and there are more pictures of them on their pages than ther are of anything else. One could say I am the last person to judge, but I’ve realised my narcissism is quite often merely a by product of my unstable state of mind, an energy that stabilises me so as not to go fully psychotic, but then again, it is possible I am more truly vain than I think. And even then, or rather, especially then, it is a sort of pseudo-narcissism, i.e a hypersensorial daydream, not an actual philosophy to life that I put into action and impose on people around me, I have gained too much self-awareness for that. It is merely an energy that takes hold of my present moment awareness.  But on top of that, in the depths of universal love something tells me that I cannot really be a narcissist. Dave Bowman powering through the red Stargate, the light reaching 6 year old me on the grass next to lake Divonne tells me that my mind is blessed with forces too great and beautiful to truly have narcissism at the core of its inner essence. It is a symptom of my illness, and Universal Love is with me. The Consciousness Network knows of me and I have experience in accessing it.  It just blows my mind that I have managed to lose touch with it, as this seems unthinkable every time I come in conatct with it. Sand, trickle not through my fingers but shape into an empire!  

I am having a sudden OCD panic attack so will have to take a break from writing this (there is still more). The sudden lucidity that allowed me to write everything above is dissipating. It will return. I must believe.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RR98qq9iHmw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pi9buHnx9rU

Underworld are a recent revelation; not a discovery, as I have known of them for several years. It is just that something has grasped me in their music of late, something very homely, friendly to Karl Hyde’s voice combined with their sound textures. Songs like Bird One are moments where, much like I had at times in the past about russians, I catch glimpses (of a man, moving uphill) of hope for english and anglosaxons, that is in a Eugenics sort of way, namely that, despite their general contempt for all things rational, their anarchic spirit gives them a raw spirituality that I find mainland europeans can tend to lack once taken over by their abstract concepts. There is a certain finesse to the constant crescendo that is Bird One that I feel could only come from the souls of a couple of english blokes, a certain friendly naivety that gets lost when for example their mainland european counterparts try to emulate it; although I generally tend to prefer the French to the English, I know from personal experience that the latter have more of a natural feel for making music. I have started to take racial theories seriously recently - not in the sense that I feel they are truly grounded in reality or are necessarily of any value, but in the sense that I believe that people don’t just make these things up, and in our distinct social groups prevalent energy trends can be mutually communicated in a deeply profound way, creating a mystical sense of unity, for better or for worse. I am admittedly highly untypical for an englishman, for various reasons, but even though I have never lived there I feel a sort of strange sentimental attachment to certain things english, things that speak very directly to my immediate behaviour and personality, more so than many french things, although I do still have a special connection with various of the latter having grown up with them and all. I found that for a long time the way I thought in Russian was more cloesly linked to the english part of my brain than to the french part. 

Underworld give me hope for the english. That the english are more than the friday night pub-drunkards, or the social-status obsessed sociopaths that populate the country, that they really have a Weltanschauung within their character that is worth sharing. The english generally seem like uncivilised barbarians compared to their european neighbours, and there have been points where I may have considered the possibility that they were quite simply an inferior nation with lower capacities. They have no real sense of culture, any idea of what it is to be human, what it is to be. I feel they are liberal in a way that other european countries aren’t - whereas in France people, I feel, are truly concerned about democracy and freedom, in England liberal mentality seems nothing more than a social trend that shifts according to the tide, for example english people are traditionally the worst homophobes I have ever met, back in the 60′s  they effectively condemned one of the world’s greatest minds, Alan Turing,  to death for his sexual orientation, and suddenly as of a few years ago it became socially accepted that sexual equality was a thing and now everyone goes along with it likes it’s totally normal. The english have no real values. They are an entertainment culture like the americans. I even find the russians are sometimes more respectable in their fierce respect for their culture, (although I do find them very superficial themselves of late and appreciate the english’s basic niceness which I think is more profound than the paranoid frown russians greet everyone with). But they produce wonders of art that make me think twice. There is something godly in that fuck-off anarchy. Yes, I am a hopeless romantic. But by God does the world need us. It is hopeless without us.

A maintes reprises over the past days I have been convinced that my brain is gone for good and that my Odyssey will have no stargate ending, i.e a banal end in which the computer actually manages to kill me because I forgot my space helmet. This is all because this time last week, I ate about 12 entire packets of ham within the space of 3/4 days, since I realised it had a great capacity for digesting serotonin, i.e to end my current mental drought. I went a bit too full retard on this one though and have been feeling what I believe are the effects of excess serotonin: headache, confusion, trouble with memory, slight depressin etc. I pray to god and have not lost hope that my mind will gradually stabilise, but I will say one thing - there is no worse fate in this world than being boring and superficial. I have felt states of mind so dull these past days I became terrified at the prospect I may never rediscover my former psychotic Eden, but also horrified at the idea that people actually live in such limited states of consciousness. No fucking wonder there is so much evil in our world, I certainly don’t blame anyone for resorting to it. I would literally rather die than live in those states for the rest of my life and so keep going merely in the hope that this is all purely temporary, which I tend to truly believe. Moral of the story is, kids, don’t eat 9 packets of ham within the space of two days, cus y’all might fuck up yo brains in doing so. A worthy death is worth far more than a meaningless existence.

To elaborate on 2001 - Kubrick’s 2001 is more than just a film for me, for many many years, until the wonders of modern psychiatry altered Universal Love’s playing fields, that world was a crucial part of my general life perception. It was an energy that flowed like a river underneath all occurences of the physical world, reminding me of the divine and greater good in this life. It is something supernatural, on a heightened sensory level, where my inner world mixes ecstatically with the ouer. It is when I lost those sensations that I inherently started to become a disgustingly superficial person. Religious faith in such things is crucial, as life may take them away.

[lady-tempest]

On Panic Attacks and How to Help

I was browsing reddit and I came across what looks to be a couple of helpful comments about panic attacks (there will be a link to the comment thread after the quotes for those interested).

First, why panic attacks are such a big deal:

“A panic attack is a strange thing, your brain kind of ends up in a weird cycle.

It initially decides that some input is super dangerous and life threatening. This initial thing could be a physical sensation like a pain in your chest/elevated heart rate, or sensory- maybe you saw a quick flash of light that your brain decides is a physical attack, or stress related- you're worried about someone not liking you which elevates your stress hormones enough that it causes a danger response. It can be anything really. The tricky part about this is that it's your "lizard" or basal brain that is monitoring your safety, so there's no conscious control involved in setting off the chain reaction, and you are often never aware of what the triggering event is.

Once your brain senses imminent, life threatening danger, it jumps into superhero mode. It releases stress hormones, speeds up the heart rate and breathing rate, you can get a flood of adrenaline, senses become heightened, etc. These things are all awesome if you were, say, being chased by a bear, but when you're hanging out alone in your bedroom they end up really messing with your brain, which is what contributes to the physical sensations of a panic attack. You feel your heart racing, like you can't breathe (your body is trying to pull in more oxygen), you get shaky, you get tunnel vision, you become acutely aware of every part of your body and every tiny twinge in it.

The rational part of your brain does try to kick in at some point, but it doesn't really help the situation. One part of your brain has flashing lights and sirens and is in full blown panic mode. The "smart" part of your brain starts to try to figure out what's going on by doing a quick scan. It doesn't see a bear, there's no knife wielding madman, you're not falling out of an air plane. But wait! Your heart is racing! You can't breathe! You can't see right! You're getting dizzy! You're body is shaking! There's a pain in your side! Your brain takes all this in, the terrible symptoms, the warning lights - which it is hard wired to trust and respond to- and the lack of a visible threat, and concludes that there is some terrible physical event happening and that you are truly dying. 

Of course, the irony is that that reinforces the stress responses and continues the cycle until you are able to disrupt it. Truly the whole point of a panic attack is that your brain has decided that you are, in some fashion, dying. It can be a really terrible feeling.” - (reddit user) cow_girl_up

How to help, as explained by (reddit user) acgk on how they help their girlfriend:

First things first: attitude. You cannot help her until she begins to help herself. You are guiding her, not fixing her. Don't even think about fixing or problems. There's nothing wrong. Your demeanor should be "this is happening and I am being supportive," not "there is a problem and I am fixing it."

Ask her to look at you as best she can. Eye contact is best, but it might be too hard. If she can't, let her know that it's okay and pick something easier, like an inanimate object comparable in size to a human (e.g., not something tiny like a pen or huge like the night sky or ocean). It should be unique, though. And it definitely shouldn't be fragile or broken. Look at it with her, but pay her the occasional glance to monitor her condition. If she just needs to keep her eyes shut, let her and reassure her that's okay, too.

Ask her to describe what she's feeling. Ideally, only let her move up the order of preference before: if she was looking at a lamp and now she's looking at you, that's a good sign. If she was looking at a lamp and now she's got her eyes shut or she's looking at her feet, that's bad. Don't comment on it, but make a mental note.

Now you can help. Make her understand that she is safe. Food, warmth, soft things, and hugs are all good things here, usually, but not for everyone. If she gets claustrophobic when she has an anxiety attack, it may be better to go outside with her. Read the situation. If she's still got a full on anxiety attack, maybe take some vital signs so you can prove to her that she is physically alive and well, but honestly if nothing has helped yet then we're leaving the realm of my expertise.

If she's anxious about losing you, hugs first. If she's anxious about trusting you, a blanket and some hot cocoa first. If she's anxious about something that doesn't involve you, it matters less. This can be hard to judge because at this point you still haven't asked her what's wrong. We're getting to that.

In any case, don't just leave and go get things for her. Communication is key. Don't ask her if she wants something; she'll probably say no. Let her know you're planning to go get it for her and give her enough time to stop you if she doesn't want it or would rather you stayed by her.

Edit to clarify previous paragraph. Think of it this way: if you ask if she wants something, the status quo is you not doing something but if she accepts the offer, she's given you a little extra burden. You don't mind or even think about it that way because you love her, but she can worry about that kind of thing when she has anxiety. If you just tell her what your plan is, the status quo is that you've already decided to do the thing, so she's less likely to stop you just because she feels like she doesn't deserve it.

Now, once she's begun to relax or volunteer the information, you can ask about what the initial problem was.

Behind the Scenes

Step one was something called "grounding". She's in hell inside her head, and you've got to get her to focus on something real and concrete. Show her the way out of her head to a place where she can talk.

Next, you made her take an objective look at the real problem. When you're having an anxiety attack, the real problem is the anxiety attack. Your panic response is in a feedback loop: you're panicking because you're panicking. The thing that initially caused you to panic, if it was ever real, is no longer part of the equation. She needs to go from "I'm dying" to "I feel short of breath because I'm scared about ____." That's why we avoided asking her what was wrong. She's wasn't sure at that point, and if you asked her then she might've started panicking even more.

Now that no new fuel is being added to the fire, you put it out and/or stay with her until it burns itself out.

Edit to add: If all else fails, there is one more thing you can try. Just talk to her. Let her know she's not necessarily expected to participate; just talk. Avoid topics that would make her more anxious, obviously, but really just having another person there can be really helpful.

Edit: It really made my day that this has helped so many people. I had no idea it would blow up like this. Thank you all for the comments and gold.

My experience: Literally everyone I've ever been close to except for one person deals with anxiety in some level. At the worst end, my sister had a suicide scare more than once and at the best end, my closest friend's anxiety is basically under control and I've never been with her during an attack. Also I deal with my own anxiety. I'm in academia, so I have some experience reading academic journals as a way of learning new information, but that's the only advantage I've got: I'm not in psychology and what I say should not be considered medical advice. If it's truly serious, talk to them about seeing a professional.

Grounding techniques: I went over two of them. These are the two that, to me, are the easiest to walk a person through conversationally. There are lots of grounding techniques, but many of them would be rather obviously clinical to try and walk someone through, and I can't tell you how well that would be received. If you have the chance to talk seriously about anxiety with your partner, it can be good to go over some grounding techniques with them and encourage them to find what works for them. There are a couple mentioned elsewhere in this thread, and they're all over the internet with varying levels of academic rigor behind them.

Notes about OP: I cannot emphasize enough how non-judgemental you have to be. It can be really hard for someone to make eye contact if they have anxiety. They might be genuinely not strong enough and if you try to make them, they might panic more. You'll have to learn a little from experience, but it might be better to switch steps one and two sometimes, or omit eye contact entirely. Maybe start a little bit of a conversation about the object they focus on instead of jumping straight into talking about their feelings. Get them to take in details of the world around them.

Hope this information helps people, here’s the link to the comment as promised: https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/5nmmcq/if_someone_were_to_take_over_your_body_in_this/dcd03qy/ 

[mcrmadness]

A neighbour is barbecuing outside and damn that smells good. This is the reason why I’m not a vegetarian: I have decided to only eat organic meat when I eat meat and it’s already so difficult to find foods you can eat (most restaurants don’t do organic so either you don’t eat meat or you eat some shitty vegan fake-meat [boradbeans are actually a nice meat replacement but idk about restaurants]) and all the organic meat pretty much is limited to minced meat and sausages. And everything but minced meat has just so many E-codes in them that it makes me want to avoid them too.

And it’s just so so so so so annoying because I really do like the taste of meat and sometimes when I smell meat, it’s like... almost like some animalistic instict. It just tastes so good and I feel like eating all the meat in the world and sometimes I just crave for hamburgers and whatnot just because of the meat. It’s even worse if you decide you are not allowed to eat when you know that a) meat does not make you sick and b) it tastes so fucking good and deciding to become a vegetarian is like deciding to never use the computer again. I just can’t do it. Some days I’ve been like “fuck it” and didn’t care about what I ate anymore and just ate, but then I was woken up again and decided to go back to organic meat only. And it’s so restricting, like I said - I can only eat in places where they have food made from fish which is why I almost always end up eating pizza as I always eat it with tuna.

Idk, the taste of meat just gives me so huge dopamine rush that sometimes the smell alone is making me crazy. Right now I’m not working but whenever I work with horses, my body also needs meat, not just craves but needs it. It’s very physical job and I literally cannot stay healthy nor alive if I don’t eat properly and something that can go into my muscles. I could eat only fish too, but fish in Finland is ridiculously expensive and I don’t have the money. I usually always buy fish from the -30% sale only because 1kg of fresh salmon costs 10-18€, depending on which cut it is. And it mainly comes from bred salmons in Norway and you shouldn’t even eat that that much because of the enviromental issues. And if it’s marinated and cut to pieces, it costs over 20€/kg. And if you want to buy FINNISH fish... unprepared costs over 13€/kg and cut ones can cost over 30€/kg. I often buy frozen tuna steaks from Lidl and that already is 5€ for 250g. Tuna in a can is no longer as cheap as it used to be, I buy only the MSC ones and they cost almost or over 3€/can. So if you were to eat fish every day in Finland, you’d need to be either rich or not eat anything for the last 2 weeks of every month.

So, that is the biggest reason for why I can’t be vegetarian. Another one being that I literally start to feel sick and weak if I go too long without meat. Like I said, it’s not as bad now as I don’t work and I can survive by eating fish or broad bean stuff to replace the meat but I can’t do that for too long until I start to feel really weak. And I have a habit to listen to my body and it will tell me what it needs when it needs it - it will crave for foods when I’m in need of vitamins and such. Last year, when I was to Poland and I was stressing to much, eating way too little and sweating 24/7, and then next week had to go to a blood test, it showed low levels of potassium. That explained why I was constantly feeling like and eating bananas, and why I suddenly craved fo avocados with herbal salt so much after seeing a photo of an avocado on an ad, and I don’t even LIKE avocados. It was because it contains lots of potassium and my body was in need of potassium. And if I don’t get enough whatever you get from meat, I start craving for meat. Be it proteins or iron or whatnot, the reason I crave it is because my body is lacking something you get from it. And I like to listen to my body.

This is also why I can feel like a moody toddler when I look at photos of hamburgers because I just feel like I restricted everything fun from myself. I have never had the best relationship with food. I have never been that good at eating and my mom has always said that I have a “bird’s stomach” because my eating habits have always gone in phases - sometimes I eat A LOT and all the time and then sometimes I eat barely anything, I’ve been like this since I was a kid. And at school we always had do little time to finish eating and I am REALLY slow at eating + the food often tasted bad, so I learnt to take as little as possible so I don’t need to throw away too much and so that I could finish with the food before the time ran out. I was often running late for lessons only because I would sit there eating for ages and not realizing the time’s passing, until I got older and understood the clock better. So eating as a process became more like a task for me. I was eating for living and a full plate always felt like a task that I did not know if I had enough time to complete. And if I did it before the time ran out, I was feeling relieved. I also remember every time I saw people eating in movies, my only concern was “how can they eat if they are not hungry?” because I could never eat if I was not hungry and thinking about being an actor and eating because of a movie scene while not hungry made me feel almost sick. And sometimes even today I feel like I’m not on the mood for eating but I have to get myself something to eat because I’m hungry, and I just feel like eating is an unpleasant task I need to complete and sometimes I just can’t finish it properly.

Things kinda turned upside down when I was depressed and never ate because I was neve hungry nor feeling the hunger - school left me hungry every time so I stopped being able to differentiate the real hunger from the normal feeling in my stomach. I was often feeling really bad because I didn’t eat and my sugar levels kept dropping so down and it was just insane, I was malnourished but I didn’t see that (and I had always been relatively skinny). And then when I was 20, I was quitting my antidepressants but it happened in the middle of too stressfull situations and I hit the rock bottom and after that I had food anxiety - fear of low blood sugar which I often call as “mental diabetes”. I don’t have a diabetes but I couldn’t tell anxiety apart from low blood sugar symptoms. So I started eating when I didn’t need to eat anything just because I had anxiety and my first thought always was “LOW BLOOD SUGAR!!! EVERYONE, PANIC, NOW!!!”

Over the couple of past years I’ve gotten over this anxiety but it sometimes takes over if I haven’t eaten a warm meal in a few days. My body starts to have symptoms of the low blood sugar anxiety and my mind satrts to obsess with food because “we need something nourishing ASAP”. There was a time when I got anxiety attacks after seeing someone eating white bread because my mind started to empathisize and think “what if they get low blood sugar because white bread is not healthy?” and that’s why I ate only rye bread. And sometimes I felt like I need to put away a piece of rye bread in case of them feeling low blood sugar so I can help them if they suddenly get low blood sugar. And if I ran out of bread at work, I would be so anxious the whole time because what if I get low blood sugar but have nothing to eat? That’s why I still carry fruit sugar pills with me everywhere I go - I don’t necessarily need to eat them, but it makes me feel better to know they are there if I need them. I immediately get anxious if I don’t have any with me and I start to create “escape plans” and how to get something to eat and where to get something to eat if there’s an “emergency”.

I’d say it’s some sort of an eating disorder but I don’t know what. It has nothing to do with losing weight or binge eating, basically it might be bit like when people want to eat as healthy as possible but it’s not that either. It’s just me “feeding” my anxiety because HSP makes me feel hunger stronger than how others feel it. I get the biggest anxiety only when I know I either don’t have access to food or when I have access but the situation might include social anxiety - schools are the worst because can’t just walk out of the room. Even at work I sometimes had food anxiety when I was driving horses because I knew I could have not taken a fruit sugar pill because I needed both my hands for driving.

Idk why I felt like opening up now. All this just because of a neighbour barbecuing? Weird.

[riooshop]

How to Manage Your Test Anxiety  Anxiety is typical Homeworkforyou for college students.

How to Manage Your Test who can do my homework Anxiety  Anxiety is typical for college students. Through the time you start planning for university to your time you graduate, you are under an amount that is enormous of to achieve success. When you have test anxiety, college may compound this issue further. You cannot do your most readily useful work when you’re panicked and stressed about your exam. Check out ways to manage the anxiety to help you use your knowledge and abilities to place forth your most readily useful work.

Recognize the Symptoms

Maybe you’re not sure if everything you’re feeling is actually test anxiety. Or, maybe you know it is, but you have not checked extremely closely at how it exhibits it self. Begin with a self-observation that is little do my homework for me now.

If you see these signs at test time, it’s time to deal with the issue:

A headache is had by you, sickness, or diarrhea.

You are perspiring exceptionally, your heart rate is up, and you also’re in short supply of breath.

You are feeling light-headed or faint.

You’re feeling as if you’re having a coronary attack.

You’re feeling aggravated, afraid, helpless, or disappointed in your self.

You’re having a hard time focusing.

Your thinking are negative where can i get the answers to my homework.

You keep comparing you to ultimately others.

Understand the Source of the Anxiety

Anxiousness doesn’t take place without having a explanation. Someplace within you, there’s something precipitating that uncomfortable feeling. It isn’t just your test outcomes which are on the line, as severe test anxiety can result in other health that is mental as well. The initial step you need to simply take after you notice that you have test anxiety would be to identify the foundation.

Typical causes for test pay for college homework anxiety consist of:

Concern with failure

Dwelling on memories of previous test problems

Maybe Not being ready for the test

Prepare in Advance

You can’t show exactly how well you know the product if in reality, you do not understand it. Cramming at the last minute typically simply increases your anxiety without getting much more information into your do my homework brain. So, learn the course content as you go. Listed here is how to do it:

Take good records

Study in small increments as the material is learned by you

Do all the assignments towards the most readily useful of your abilityAsk concerns

Test yourself on the subject

Take these steps, and also the knowledge will firmly be more planted in your thoughts. When test time comes, the answers will come more naturally.

Discover skills that are test-Taking

Just once you understand the product does not guarantee success when necessarily it comes to using an exam. This is especially valid when you’ve got test anxiety. Perhaps you panic whenever you begin to see the test because you ehomework.ca review haven’t developed test-taking that is good. You might be capable of geting this training throughout your university’s counselling centre. Listed below are a few ideas to get you started:

Take the time to read the instructions carefully

Begin with the questions you realize

Write a brief outline before you start responding to an essay concern

Use leisure methods like breathing or muscle that is systematic before and throughout the test as needed

It is in addition crucial to stay good, take care that is good of wellness who can i pay to do my homework, while focusing on the test. With the right techniques which help, it is possible to figure out how to manage the issues that hold you right back from doing all your hw answers most readily useful at test time. Whenever you do, you can boost your grades along with your psychological state as well.

How an Eating Condition Can Affect Your College Years

Gonna university can be a thing that is wonderful and it’s really something that not everyone else extends to do. Therefore, if you are here, you wish to take full advantage of it and have the best college experience possible. Regrettably, that isn’t constantly a simple pay for homework answers task if you have got an eating disorder.

Emotional Issues

Working with your emotions must certanly be a main concern when you’ve www.letusdothehomework.com/ got an eating disorder. That is because the emotions you’ve got about food are making you miserable, maybe not the meals it self. Oahu is the sense of being away from control that influences your behavior. Behind those feelings, there are ideas of being not good enough, which destroy your self-esteem and damage your mental wellness.

If you were to think you have got an eating disorder, you can speak with a therapist at BetterHelp homework help answers.com. Mention some of these symptoms that are emotional they be seemingly a challenge for you:

You are constantly preoccupied with weight, diet, and managing your food consumption

You are feeling you’ll want to skip dishes usually or consume little

You obtain into a cycle of binge food that is eating then feeling accountable

You stress a complete great deal concerning the size and shape of your human body

You’ve got serious mood swings

Real Problems

Because your eating disorder prompts one to alter to unhealthy eating do my homework routine, it will have negative impact on your physical health. You may encounter some of these health problems if you don’t address the issue:

Extreme fat loss or fat gain

Dental problems

Weakened immune system

Painful stomach cramps

Menstrual irregularity

Dizziness and fainting

Erratic sleeping patterns

Your wounds heal very slowly

Weakened muscles

Social Isolation

Possibly the most difficult section of having an eating disorder best homework help websites for college students when you are in college could be the social aspect. It is extremely common to be socially isolated if your eating habits are away from control. This can result from your own shame while the sense of being different than other people. This may additionally take place because your behavior and changes that are physical alarming or strange to others.

The emotions you’ve got about food can alter your social life dramatically. You are feeling uncomfortable eating around others, and that means you avoid how can i do my homework group meals. You’re feeling very anxious you have trouble relaxing because you can’t follow your food rituals or habits, so. You are so focused on your food intake that you can’t show your self freely, so other people don’t actually become familiar with you for who you are.

Consuming problems can be extremely hard to over come. They truly are complex patterns of thought, feeling, and behavior all wrapped up into one. No matter what associated with i need help with homework the eating that is many you have got, it’s critical to have the help of a therapist as quickly as possible. You can get on the path to a better life and the college experience you’ve always wanted when you do.

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[yourlocalpansexual]

02/10 Anxiety

TW; panic attacks, mentions of suicide and self harm

get it our of your head that girls who have anxiety are cute. get it out of your head that boys with anxiety are just shy and cute and sweet.

anxiety is shaking and crying and panic attacks and rapid breathing and racing hearts and the smallest things causing panic attacks. it’s feeling like you can’t do the things other people can’t because you’re feeling so anxious. it’s hating crowds and having to make phone calls.

anxiety is defined as “a state of apprehension, uncertainty and fear resulting from anticipation of a realistic or fantasized threatening event or situation, often impairing psychological and physical functioning.”

Anxiety turns into a 'disorder' - disruption to normal functioning - when anxiety and its sensations and symptoms interfere with a normal lifestyle.

symptoms of anxiety:

excessive worrying - one of the most common symptoms. this worrying associated with anxiety disorders is often disproportionate to the events that triggered the worrying and it typically occurs in everyday situations. it must continue most days for at least six months for it to be considered a sign of generalized anxiety disorder.

feeling agitated - part of someones sympathetic nervous system goes into overdrive when they are feeling anxious. this can cause things such as a racing heart, sweaty palms, shaking hands and dry mouth. this is your body’s reaction because your brain believes that you are in danger, and is preparing your body to react to the threat.

restlessness - this is often described as feeling “on edge” or having an “uncomfortable urge to move”. it is a red flag doctors look for when looking for a diagnosis but does not necessarily shown in all cases.

fatigue - fatigue is often felt after an anxiety attack, but it can be chronic. fatigue can, however, be a symptom of depression or other mental disorders.

difficulty concentrating - studies show that anxiety can interrupt working memory. this can also be a symptom of depression or another mental disorder, such as ADD (attention deficit disorder). 

tense muscles - it is not fully understood why tense muscles are associated with anxiety. it is possible that tense muscles cause anxiety or it is possible that anxiety can cause muscle tension. 

trouble falling or staying asleep - some research suggests that insomnia as a child relates to developing anxiety later on in life. 

panic attacks - panic attacks cause an overwhelming fear that can be debilitating. this is generally accompanied by a rapid heartbeat, sweating, shaking, shortness of breath, chest tightness, nausea and fear of dying or losing control. 

avoiding social situations - if you find yourself feeling anxious or scared of events that are coming up, worrying that you might be judged, scared of being embarrassed in front of others or avoiding social situations because of these fears, you may have social anxiety disorder.

irrational fears - extreme fears about specific things are a sign that you might have anxiety disorder. these are known as phobias. a phobia is an extreme anxiety or fear about a specific situation or object. 

if you have a friend showing these symptoms or you think might want to end their life or hurt themselves, talk to them. don’t pry for information. suggest they go see a professional. don’t EVER tell someone with anxiety that they need to “snap out of it” or that they need to “calm down” or “it’s not that big of a deal” because it is to them. a spilt glass of milk could be a nuisance to you but the end of the world for someone with anxiety.

also remember, just because someone has a nice life and their parents are still together and their is nothing obviously wrong with their environment, don’t assume they cannot have anxiety or any other form of mental health issue, issues with self harm, or an eating disorder. mental health issues and illnesses don’t care. (i got that from another tumblr post so if you find it please tell me!!)

i got all of my information from here.