trepidation | h.s

03: safety

Lydia Styles

I have never really experienced panic attacks that weren't triggered by something specific.

When Harry and I were in the midst of all those terrible things happening to us, I could pinpoint my panic then because it was obvious where it was coming from.

Anxiety is something that is unfortunately present in our family.

It's been almost a year since I had Will...and at eleven months old, he's showing very early set symptoms of anxiety. Crying excessively, clinging to me or Harry, refusing to be separated from either of us. He's a very sensitive baby, born just nine months after Harry and I endured the scariest night of our lives.

Daisy shows some signs too, but differently. She's more like Harry, where she'll shut down and get super quiet if she's feeling very anxious. She's not huge on expressing her feelings as a toddler, which is something we're working on. It makes sense for Daisy to experience anxious feelings. She was born into mine and Harry's scary life—before it all ended. She experienced the night where Phantoms broke into my parents house and held us all at gunpoint. She saw me, her mom, get hit in the face so hard that I bled. And overall, she experienced a house fire.

And of course, Harry. I've only ever seen him experience a panic attack a handful of times, but I know he has them more frequently than that. The way it happens to him, makes it seem like the scariest thing to have to endure. He's not able to breathe properly, and he can barely even speak to me until it's over. It's heartbreaking, but he hasn't had one in a long time.

I have had panic attacks, but they're no where near as bad as Harry's...and they mostly occurred when something bad happened to us, or a few months after Flame Night. What I'm saying is that there has always been a trigger that I could recognize.

But right now...I can't seem to figure out why my chest feels like it's collapsing.

Harry was finishing up with putting Will to bed, while I'm downstairs in the kitchen, feeling like the world is spinning.

I thought I was fine until I got down here. It felt like something had knocked all of the air out of my body and I couldn't seem to regain any of it.

My hands grip the countertop, my heart aching beneath my ribs. I couldn't get a full breath in, making each breath more and more shallow.

Am I gonna die?

My lips part as I breathe unevenly, feeling so monstrously sick.

I pinch my eyes shut, my chest hurting and my throat closing up. This is it. I'm gonna die because I can't breathe and Harry is gonna find me down here.

When my eyes shut, it was like a flood of horrible, horrible memories came speeding into my conscious. Instead of the darkness of my eyelids, I saw the reminders of all our trauma.

I saw the exploding building that held Harry inside.

I saw Cody, swinging a gun around in his hand as I sat helplessly against the wall during his crazed drunken fit.

I saw Harry and heard his screams that were muffled by a cloth shoved in his mouth, his hands tied behind him as my lower stomach ignited with agonizing pain. My miscarriage.

I heard the beeping machines and the voice of the doctor telling us we lost our child. I remembered the tears that finally poured out of me in the shower with Harry that same night.

I heard Louis' shouts for help after Tatum was murdered. I heard Niall's cries after Liam was shot.

Damien. I saw Damien chasing me through a dark parking lot.