Tw Panic Attack - Blog Posts

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of harassment, panic attacks, PTSD symptoms, anxiety, threats of physical violence. Mentions of trauma, abuse, bipolar depression, PTSD, anxiety, coping, self deprecating thoughts, dark humor.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023

12:06pm

This is the letter that I wrote to my older (half) sister, before the texts in Part 1 the next day.

Here’s what I said to her:

“Hey Angel… I think it’s time we talk about the distance that we both have experiencing. Honestly, I don’t even know how the distance started, but it’s something that I fell into and followed. I would like to talk when you’re ready because it’s necessary that we do. That we talk about everything for as long as we both need, and that we come into this conversation ready and willing to hear each other out. Just let me know.”

“I was in such a dark place when this all started. I think after looking back on it, that I never took the time to properly explain what happened, what’s been happening…

As you know, I’ve had such an extensive amount of trauma, especially from my supposed father-figures. It was September… I was on a shuttle, trying to get to my rehearsal for dance on a Sunday afternoon. I stepped onto the shuttle, wearing my headphones, listening to the same playlist that I do before I dance. It’s my… ritual, the thing that grounds me, calms me, but also, psyches me up to go. And, that’s the paradoxical thing about having anxiety as well as bipolar depression; you have to calm yourself down in order to build yourself up to feel excited.

In that process, I missed the driver telling everyone to not get on if they were not going to the next stop, which would unfold in our confrontation. 

I got on the bus, and when we arrived at the next stop, I didn’t get off the bus, which was odd, but not too unusual… until I noticed the yelling. I took out my earbuds to hear the driver yelling, and it took me a second to realize that he was yelling at me. He was trying to force me off the bus because I apparently wasn’t supposed to be on otherwise.

I was confused, and shocked, and frightened, but I found the courage to ask why. I didn’t know at the time that he had said that he would swing back around to get the people going to main campus. I got frustrated with how he was acting, because we would get there eventually ‘cause the route is continuous, as all bus routes are, but he kept getting more aggressive as he was trying to force me off. His reasoning was, “because he said so”, instead of any semblance of reason. It reached the point where other students were getting on to return home, and that spurred him to park the bus, say that he wasn’t moving until I got off, and threatened to call the police or physically removing me himself. I was panicked, so I did what my mind told me to do in the moment. I made my way off, asked for his name, which was like pulling teeth, and tried to call the office to make a complaint. He drove away, I was officially late to rehearsal, and then, I realized that I had no idea where I was.

My anxiety was building exponentially as I called the transportation office 3 times with no response before I realized there wasn’t going to be, because they are closed on the weekends. I then tried calling all my friends, with cars, to see if they could pick me up to no avail. Then, I had my first panic attack on the curb of a parking lot in an unfamiliar place, while people walked by with odd stares and no concern for me.  Then, I tried calling all and any family I could, my mom, you, Camille, and Auntie Roz and Auntie Julie, but no one answered.

Cue my second panic attack.

A friend called me back, I explained the situation, but they couldn’t come get me. So, I made the decision to call an Uber with the last $11 I had. On the drive, my mom called to see what was going on. She responded to the story by saying “Get over it”. Not understanding how triggering it was for me, or caring for how upset or shaken I was. I got out of the Uber, had my third panic attack in 40 minutes, and after, I noticed the time.

Rehearsal was over, and I cried.

I called my professor to apologize and after I explained what happened, he Venmo’d me for the Uber, but that’s where the resolution of the incident stopped. I did end up filing a complaint, and they took my side, but didn’t act on any of the solutions I asked for. After that, well, I spiraled.

Part 1 -- Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

So, as I've stated in my last post, I've began to write my final draft for the first chapter of my AU's fanfic. However, I added a "(?)" because I figured, knowing myself, there would most likely be a couple of things I would remove to add in. And I was correct. There was a portion I initially liked, but realized seemed so random in the chapter, so I removed it. However, I didn't just want to delete it altogether, so I'm posting it here. Enjoy!

TRIGGER WARNING: Panic Attack

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Out-of-Context)

Cut Content From My Fic:

When he first entered the elevator, he was extremely confident and optimistic about how his first impression would be recieved. Now that his thoughts had been given some time to simmer from the long ride, he couldn't help his worries piling up at the front of his mind. What if he messed up? What if he said something wrong and offended everyone there and he had no genius to blanket his fall, since intellect wasn't vital the acting industry? Or, furthermore, what if it turns out he's not at all the good actor Stan assured him he was and made an utter fool out of himself? He could just picture the headline: "Dr. Ford — Brilliant Scientist Turned Actor Laughingstock."

Oh, Moses, what was he thinking! He had to leave this elevator this instant, one way or another.

His fingers resumed the activity of tapping the shiny, metallic railing attached to and surrounding the glossy walls of the elevator — this time at a much rapid pace than before. (He hadn't even realized he had stopped.)

Tappity-tappity-tap.

His brown eyes scanned through the assortment of buttons, searching for something that would allow him to pause or stop the electrical contraction. It didn't matter what it did as long as it would save him from future humiliation.

Tappity-tappity-tappity-tap!

He couldn't go through with this. Moses, for someone so smart he was so stupid. Why did he ever think this was a good idea?

TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAP!

Why did he decide to go through with this? Why did he decide to go through this? Whydidhedecidetogothroughwiththis? WHYDIDHEDECIDETOGOTHROUGHWITHTHIS?

TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY-TAPPITY—!

...

His entire body was frozen as still as a statue, yet it felt as if he was shaking and moving so much internally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fun fact about me: For some reason, I have a tendency to write my protagonists having mental breakdowns in the first chapter of my fics (original and fanfiction alike). Usually, it doesn't feel random and fits in quite well, since those first chapters also tend to be very dramatic and impactful on my protagonist's emotional state. Here, it doesn't work. Stan has already assured him he'll do fine. Sure, he still can worry and be anxious about his reception to everyone (I know I would *cough cough* anxiety disorder *cough cough*), but it doesn't feel too in character for Ford, especially at the moment. So, I'm deleting the scene.

It took a while for Bite to drag himself out of the headspace he'd been trapped in. By the time he truly felt he was back, he'd managed to get close enough to 41 that he could press his head to the other clone's shoulder. Now the panic had resided, Bite could feel the overwhelming wave of exaution crash over him, and all he really wanted was to go to sleep.

"Vor entye, vod, thank you."

Now he can think again, Bite isn't sure when the last time he'd been this close with one of his brothers. After they got him back, Atin pulled the Kih'vod card and had slept in his bunk whenever he'd had the chance. Once the transfer was confirmed, Bite had spent every night until he was dropped on Coruscant in a pile of his Aliit.

"Thank you for being here, vod. You were perfect."

(from: @squad380) for Spotify wrapped starters/asks: 27

[Nice, song 27: Panic Room by Au/Ra]

Bite wakes with a jolt and a loud swear, tumbling from his top bunk and groaning as he lands on the previously distant floor.

"Kriff, one night of uninterrupted sleep in all I ask for." Bite mumbles in staggered, sharp breaths, aware of the vode sleeping around him. He pushes himself up on shaking limps as the adrenaline from his nightmare continues to rage through him.

In the darkness of the barracks, Bite could have sworn he was somewhere else, the cold floor only serving to help his mind send him places he never wants to think of again. Only the steady breathing of sleeping clones, intrupted by the sounds of rustling sheets and creeking frames, grounds him in the room.

Even now, Bite can feel the panic in his throat, and the images of past horrors flash across his vision. The shaking has spread throughout his entire body, and his breathing is still uneven. With each thunderous beat of his heart, Bite moved further into the shadows of his mind.

"It's- I- I don't know. I feel like I'm there, in that room, but I can't be because my squad came for me, right? They got me out, but they aren't here, and I don't know where here is. I don't know where I am. And where are my squad? Kara, please say I got out! Please say I'm not making that up!"

Bite's breathing is slowly starting to even out as he subconsciously mimics the pattern of the vod in front of him. His mind is still racing. Every reason he finds to think he might be ok is immediately joined by more reasons he isn't. At least he isn't alone, the warm body under his palms, not a trick his mind is capable of playing.

"Not alone, not alone, not alone..."

(from: @squad380) for Spotify wrapped starters/asks: 27

[Nice, song 27: Panic Room by Au/Ra]

Bite wakes with a jolt and a loud swear, tumbling from his top bunk and groaning as he lands on the previously distant floor.

"Kriff, one night of uninterrupted sleep in all I ask for." Bite mumbles in staggered, sharp breaths, aware of the vode sleeping around him. He pushes himself up on shaking limps as the adrenaline from his nightmare continues to rage through him.

In the darkness of the barracks, Bite could have sworn he was somewhere else, the cold floor only serving to help his mind send him places he never wants to think of again. Only the steady breathing of sleeping clones, intrupted by the sounds of rustling sheets and creeking frames, grounds him in the room.

Even now, Bite can feel the panic in his throat, and the images of past horrors flash across his vision. The shaking has spread throughout his entire body, and his breathing is still uneven. With each thunderous beat of his heart, Bite moved further into the shadows of his mind.

"Bite, CT-8024 of Stealth Squad 07."

Bite knew there was something not quite right with that sentence, but right now, he didn’t want to think what it was.

"Why is it dark? Why is it so cold? I got out, I know I got out, my squad came for me, so why is it still cold?"

Bite was spiralling further and further with every word, fear blocking out his rational thought. He was supposed to be safe now, Commander Blackout promised. He could just feel the slightest warmth before him, but his panicked brain locked on before the rest of him could catch up. Bite grasped the vod's forearms, thankfully bare of the usual vembrances, and used all of the energy he had left to not let go.

(from: @squad380) for Spotify wrapped starters/asks: 27

[Nice, song 27: Panic Room by Au/Ra]

Bite wakes with a jolt and a loud swear, tumbling from his top bunk and groaning as he lands on the previously distant floor.

"Kriff, one night of uninterrupted sleep in all I ask for." Bite mumbles in staggered, sharp breaths, aware of the vode sleeping around him. He pushes himself up on shaking limps as the adrenaline from his nightmare continues to rage through him.

In the darkness of the barracks, Bite could have sworn he was somewhere else, the cold floor only serving to help his mind send him places he never wants to think of again. Only the steady breathing of sleeping clones, intrupted by the sounds of rustling sheets and creeking frames, grounds him in the room.

Even now, Bite can feel the panic in his throat, and the images of past horrors flash across his vision. The shaking has spread throughout his entire body, and his breathing is still uneven. With each thunderous beat of his heart, Bite moved further into the shadows of his mind.

(from: @squad380) for Spotify wrapped starters/asks: 27

[Nice, song 27: Panic Room by Au/Ra]

Bite wakes with a jolt and a loud swear, tumbling from his top bunk and groaning as he lands on the previously distant floor.

"Kriff, one night of uninterrupted sleep in all I ask for." Bite mumbles in staggered, sharp breaths, aware of the vode sleeping around him. He pushes himself up on shaking limps as the adrenaline from his nightmare continues to rage through him.

In the darkness of the barracks, Bite could have sworn he was somewhere else, the cold floor only serving to help his mind send him places he never wants to think of again. Only the steady breathing of sleeping clones, intrupted by the sounds of rustling sheets and creeking frames, grounds him in the room.

Even now, Bite can feel the panic in his throat, and the images of past horrors flash across his vision. The shaking has spread throughout his entire body, and his breathing is still uneven. With each thunderous beat of his heart, Bite moved further into the shadows of his mind.

"I'm sorry sir, It was my fault, I got involved, I thought I could help and now I'm karking damaged again and Tumbler is worse off than he would have been if I'd just stayed out of it. He did nothing wrong, sir, I'm the faulty one."

Bite is panicking now, his cybernetic braces too broken from the senators earlier attempts to remove them as they'd 'clash with her jewellery' to hold him up, but there was no chance he was getting back in that bed, especially now he knew he'd not only made himself useless but he'd broken his code and gotten one of his brothers, one of the only ones that had truly tried to accept him, hurt, badly.

"I need to help. How can I help?"

[DECEIVE] The sender tells a lie in order to protect the receiver || Bite was hoping for a quiet shift, though a shift as the on call medic for the senate is never quiet. As soon as Bite saw a senator getting a bit too close to his vod, he sped up to intervene. "Sir, I see that you seem to be asking this trooper for some assistance. I regret to inform you that it is unable to complete any alternative taskings at this time. I can assist you with anything you need to the best of my ability."

"Oooh? CT-3996, why didn't you tell me you were occupied? Were you hoping someone would tattle on lil ol' me?"

Tumbler would appear unaffected at first glance, settled in perfect parade rest but Bite would see how Tumbler is digging his fingers hard into his forearms, hidden behind and out of sight of the Senator, hiding his building fear and discomfort as the Senator trails her hand under where his chin would be, safe beneath his bucket.

"I was unaware, Senator Vyrim. Forgive this Trooper, it's holocomm may be inoperable and missed a situation that requires their attention."

He hopes, prays even, to whatever damned deity or greater being or even the sith-damned Force that the Senator drops the matter. Senator Vyrim was too alike Sly Moore for Tumbler to truly dismiss and disassociate from, the Rattataki Senator sharing the same pale tone and eye colour, with her tattoos and bejeweled skin the only difference from the Umbaran female.

Tangle has a panic attack

Panic Attack, featuring Mom Hank and one Very Frightened Feral

another un-edited chunk, definitely gonna be a few more chapters into the fic but here yall go!

Feral Baby Logan AU

The first time they spar, though, it triggers a memory (and a subsequent panic attack). The Beast just holds his wrists, murmurs reassurances, and rubs his thumbs against the outside of Loans knuckles, uncaring of his claws. After that, they really do start to bond. So much so that it causes…some codependency issues in Logan when he has to be apart from His Person. But, that all comes later.

Wolverine manages to hound the Beast into (play) fighting with him. He’s been at the Institute for all of a week and already feels like he’s going to shake out of his skin from boredom.

Everyones treating him like he’ll break if he does any fighting at all, which is boring, and he has to eat all of his meat medium or more because everyone keeps staring at him and watching what he eats,which is annoying, and there's no one else in the building that's his age or anything to do, which is infuriating. 

On top of all that, he’s been forced to meet with Jean Grey and Charlie every day for at least an hour. His head always hurts after, and the last few days have just been with Charle’s after Jean ran out to throw up in the hall bathroom. And that’s not mentioning the weird nightmares he’s been having these past few days, of people he doesn’t know holding him down, the loud cracking of the collar ringing in his ears even after he wakes.  

All to say, if he doesn’t get this tension out soon, he's going to explode. Beast must have seen some of his distress on his face, because he sighs, takes off his reading classes, and nods.

“Alright boy, but you must remember some rules. One,” he holds up a large blue finger.

“If I say stop, we stop. Secondly, you may not use your claws. I know you like using them, but this is a spar, not a fight, and I do not heal as quickly as you do.” He grins. “But biting and your normal claws is allowed.”

Logan doesn’t waste a minute. The moment Beast steps into the ring, Wolverine pounces, a Feral grin in place as he jumps to climb the much larger man. He’s surprised when his weight topples the man, both of them sprawling into the mat. Beast huffs out a laugh, and then grabs him by his shirt and -gently- throws him over his shoulder onto the mat. Logan wheezes, but scrambles up, a grin on his face. This is going to be fun

It’s on their fourth round that it happens: Beast surprises him. He does something to quiet his steps enough for Logan to lose him as he jumps away to get some distance. He’s trying to locate him before he closes his eyes, and realizes the man is somehow behind-

Before he even finishes his though, he sees something blue and lashes out, claws immediately extended, managing to scratch Beasts shirt before-

Beast grabs him by the front of his shirt, lifting him from the ground.  There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, a rage. It’s now that Logan remembers how much larger and stronger this man is. 

“Boy-”

A dozen voices overlap.

He’s not a boy, but everyone insists on calling him one. They love it in the lab, like he’s to stupid to understand what they're doing to him. Like he can’t understand when they rip his teeth out for attacking an essential catch, or fighting the doctors when they cut off his fingers and carve out his joints ‘for research’.

The man in front of him flicks through forms, brown hair then black then blond, hand growing larger and smaller, clawed-

And all Logan knows

Is a feeling of dread.

So he runs.

Claws retracted, he blindly swipes his arms, hearing a grunt of surprise as he's dropped like a sack of potatoes, and he's running off at a sprint before he can think.

He hears speech, more shouting, but it doesn’t matter. He has to get out.

His ears ring as he runs towards the only thing he can locate: his room.

He slams into door frames, shoves past a few taller kids, and launches himself into the most protected part of his room: the corner between his bed and his bedside table.

It's not until he's huddled in between them that he realizes he forgot to close the door

Fuck.

He’s dry heaving, trying to prevent himself from vomiting when he realizes it is his shirt that's choking him. He rips it off, the fabric feeling just like the collar-

no no he promised he could behave- they promised- please- he was sorry-

and gasps through flashes of pain, pressing his hands against his neck to prove it’s not there anymore, they didn't like to punish animals, weapons like that here. 

“Logan?” Beast is standing in his open door

He wants to scream at him to go away, to leave, to get out of his room; this is the only place he’s safe. But all that comes out is a crackling whimper.

Hank sighs, and walks in. 

Logan hisses, looking very frightening in the corner of his room. His hair is falling into his face, eyes flicking around the room, but only locking onto Hank as he crosses the threshold of the door. There’s dried blood on his neck, on his hands, on his chest. He hurt himself trying to get away.

Hank pauses, and then kneels. He crawls the rest of the room until he’s in front of Logan, who’s biting his lip so hard it keeps bleeding enough to drip down his chin.

Beast reaches a hand out  slowly but steadily. He smells bloody. And nervous. But he doesn't smell mad. It doesn’t make sense.

Logan whines, eyes slamming shut as he feels his claws slowly pop out, trying to defend him despite his knowledge it would be useless. They scrape his neck, but he keeps his hands close to his ears.

Beast grabs his wrists firmly, and his blinks as he just

“C'mon son, you have to stop scratching, you’re just scaring yourself more” He guides his hands down. Once there in his lap, Hank scruffs him gently, one firm hand on his neck as the other one remains in Logan’s, thumb rubbing the edge of his claws.

It’s familiar. 

Another memory, a breath whispered along the shell of his ear. A feeling of comfort

"C'mon runt, breathe.”

Hank echoes it, calling him son and counting out how long he's supposed to hold and then release.

He breathes

Hank's hand guides his face into the crook of his shoulder and something about the security, the safety of his room, the calm response of the doctor… the warmth of someone else cradling him.

Logan breaks.

His calmed breaths abruptly turn to sobs, and when Hank attempts to gently dislodge him (to see what he did wrong) he’s surprised by Logan clinging to him, hands shakily fisted in hims shirt, face smooshed into his neck, hard enough that Hank can feel the tears on his shirt.

And he does what no one else has done for him in years…

He stays.

He tells comforting lies, tells Logan he won’t be punished for hurting him, says they're never gonna put the collar on him again, that he’s safe, not just in his room, but in the whole mansion.

Even as Logan shakes apart, Hank's hands and breath stay constant, a lighthouse to Logan's hurricane.

When he's done crying, he pulls away, staring at the ground. He pretends like his nose isn’t dripping, and sighs.

“…Sorry.”

“It's alright, child. You are new here, and I know it is difficult to believe, but you are welcome to lean on any of us if you require assistance and support.”

In some part of his brain, Logan is screaming at himself

Child is even more infantilizing than a boy…there's no way he's going to let him call that.

But…

He noticed. He’s the first person to have noticed. And He’s the only person who hasn’t been scared of Wolverine the entire time he’s been here. So.. Beast gets a pass.

I also love this plot thread, and hope i gets another part. I absolutely had to share. 😁

When Dick called home, begging to come back from his undercover work, he dialed the wrong number. He dialed Fentonworks phone.

Jack Fenton answered.

Jack Fenton sounds so much like Bruce at first listen if someone is tired and emotionally wrecked that Dick started going on his tangeant, pleading to come home.

Jack Fenton doesn't mind more kids at all! Neither does Maddie!

Jack tells him to come home and gives him the address to Fentonworks, and gets the guest room set up and ready to go.

Dick, finally arriving three days later, still sleep deprived and not all there, stares at the blimp on the building and starts to think he may have dialed the wrong number.

He doesn't have time to cry and go back, though, because Jack and Maddie Fenton whirlwind their way out the door and corral him into his new bedroom, treating him like he's always been their son and he's just been gone for awhile.

And Dick...Dick needs this. He's three steps from a mental breakdown, can't think past two sentences worth of planning, and he hasn't slept in who knows how long. He can regret later, right now, he'll take it.

He allows them to tuck him into bed, allows himself to fall asleep, and leaves the freaking out to a more awake him.

Danny, meanwhile, is having a little chat with a few of the ghosts that regularly follow Dick Grayson, and goes invisible and intangible to just...fly over to where this guy had been and steal the info he was after.

Because holy shit, that dude looks like he needs a break.

Or: Dick gets adopted as an adult by the Fentons instead of Bruce, and gets a really weird support network.