Help me, Please?

The thing about asking for help is that it’s big and scary. It’s so much more of a monster in real life than the actual act of asking ends up being.

Tonight, I was on the verge of the kind of panic attack that feels like it comes out of nowhere. But if we’re being honest, it probably comes from somewhere. I’m just not that far in my therapy yet. And I’ve only been having these since last summer, so if we’re still being honest, they’re probably coming from my traumatic event.

I just wish that whole mess wasn’t the root of all my problems. How am I supposed to move past something I keep circling back to? But I digress.

What I’m trying to say is this. I was on the verge of a panic attack, and I have a particular friend who’s told me, more than once, to use my words and tell them when it’s happening. That they’ll be there, no matter what.

But that’s easier said than done, right? First, I have to be healed enough to recognize what’s happening in myself before I’m on the floor in tears. And then, I have to trust another human enough to actually say something.

What I’ve realized, though, is that it’s way easier to get to a place where I can verbalize that a panic attack is coming than it is to eliminate them altogether. And honestly, that progress is what matters. It’s all baby steps.

All of this healing through trauma is done in baby steps. I’ve got this. No—like, I know it feels like I don’t right now, but for real, I do.

Anyway. I listened to that friend. I respect them, I trust them, and if I’m being so for real, it was kind of a YOLO moment. It was either talk to them or have a full-blown panic attack. So why the heck not go for it?

So I did it. I asked for the help. A simple text:

“Are you busy? I’m trying to avoid a panic attack.”

That last part was important. I needed them to understand that I genuinely needed them. Like, if their version of “busy” included lying in bed eating snackies or whatever, I was hoping they could maybe hit pause. Because I really just needed a bit of their time. And they had volunteered.

And that friend came right back. Just like they said they would. In fact, they’d looked up a few ways to avoid panic attacks ahead of time—just in case.

Stretching was the first one. And they were right. It helped to just move my body in a different way instead of clenching and unclenching my fists over and over.

Then they told me a quick story. And in the most Inside Out-tastic of moves, it had a little glimpse of disgust in it. I immediately jolted out of my anxiety.

And then, that friend made sure I ordered my comfort food and logged into my favorite cozy video game before they headed off to bed.

Oh? Did I mention this friend has to be up at 4 a.m. tomorrow? Because they do.

The thing is, I knew all of that. I knew how early they had to be up. They knew I knew. And yet—I still asked for help. I got my needs across.

I think that’s what friends do when they offer you safety. When they give you a soft place to land. And I honestly think more people are willing to be that kind of friend than we realize. We just have to ask for help in a way that gets through.

Because how the heck are we supposed to get our needs met if we can’t even get them across?