Fatma

I used to say I had anxiety, but I’d never had a panic attack like this one. The day started off with me waking up 15 minutes before I had to leave the house. I automatically thought I was staying home, but that was not the case. My mum said I had to get ready and go to school. I don’t know what in the world made me get ready for school in less than 10 minutes, but I did. What triggered my anxiety was my mum’s constant shouting at me for being late and for staying up too late, but it was also the thought of turning up late for my first lesson. I know that may not sound like a big deal, but just the thought of walking into class late while everyone stared at me made me so worried.

Nevertheless, I left the house and got into the car, all while crying silently. Or, maybe my crying wasn’t that silent, because my dad started shouting at me to stop crying, which is the worst thing to say to someone who’s crying, because I started crying more. Then he asked me what was wrong. I said things that I’d never told anyone—how school puts so much pressure on me, how I don’t know what I want to be and all my dreams have been crushed by realists, how I’m always nearly falling asleep in class. But, then, I said something that I’d never thought I’d say. I said that if I kept being pressured like this, I would kill myself.

I’ve never even thought about that and I’m so afraid of death that I don’t think I could kill myself. I know I have so much more to see in my lifetime and that school is only a minuscule portion of it, but I also know that talking about killing myself came from somewhere. After saying this to my dad, I almost felt shocked at my own words. I was in the middle of the panic attack—major stuttering, gasping for air, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. My dad said, “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.” I thought he was just saying that, but when he saw the next exit, he turned the car around and drove me home.

I knew that when I got home my mum would be furious with me, but before she could start shouting at me, my Dad said, “She doesn’t need to go to school today. Leave her alone.” I walked up to my bedroom, without getting moaned at, and cried in my bed for about 30 minutes.

As the day progressed, I felt better and realized that all I needed was a rest day. Funnily enough, when I returned to school the next day, I felt more motivated and less pressured.

Sometimes, the most difficult problems have not so difficult solutions. ♦