It wasn't all that late, only about half past nine at night. Despite that, I was feeling incredibly tired. I hadn't had a remarkably busy day, or woken up early that morning, but I was ready for bed. I had to be up early for work the next morning, so I gave in to the feeling and rose from the couch.

"I'm heading to bed," I told Mac, as I walked past him tinkering on the floor of the lounge room.
He looked his watch. "It's only nine thirty. Are you alright?"
I nodded. "Early morning tomorrow. I'm feeling tired so I may as well go to bed."
He hummed thoughtfully. "I just want to finish this." He waved at the machine pieces on the floor. "I'll come to bed later, if that's okay."
"Sure, take your time."
I gave him a quick kiss and he returned to what he was doing while I went to get ready for bed.

I woke to pitch black darkness around me. There was a weight over my waist and a warm body behind me. That meant that it was at least late enough that Mac had come to bed.

I noticed my heart was beating faster than normal, and my breathing was quicker than it should be. I could hear no sounds that should have woken me, or that would indicate danger. I doubted there was any; after the army, Mac woke up at anything that could be danger. Yet, the longer I laid there, the more my heart rate increased, and it was becoming a struggle to breathe. I could feel a heavy weight settling in my stomach, a ball of anxiety knotting itself up and making me feel uneasy. Taking a deep breath, I made a conscious effort to focus on my surroundings and to slowly let my breath out. A slow breath in for seven counts, then hold it for four. Slowly let that breath out for seven counts, and hold it again for another four. Stop, repeat.
The heavy feeling didn't abate and breathing still felt too difficult. Carefully I tried to sit up, not wanting to wake my sleeping partner. My eyes were slowly becoming accustomed to the gloom, the shapes of our room furnishings appearing out of the darkness. There was a coolness in the air that I could feel seeping through my pyjamas and settling on my skin. Despite the goose bumps, I welcomed the feeling. The colder air made it a little easier to breathe, and I felt the knot in my stomach loosen a fraction. However, as it started to ease, a sound outside the window made me jump and all of a sudden I was wide awake and struggling to breathe again.

I reached for my phone, either to look at the time or try and distract myself with some social media; I wasn't sure. The light was bright in the darkness, causing me to squint my eyes, even though the brightness of the screen was as far down as it could go. Beside me, Mac made a noise and shifted. I pointed the screen away from him, but he had already woken up.
"Everything alright?" he asked, voice groggy.
The ball of anxiety tightened further, and I felt incredibly guilty for waking him up.
"I'm fine," I managed to choke out. My voice was tight and I didn't sound believable to even my own ears. Obviously Mac agreed, as he sat up beside me.

"Are you sure?"
That was all it took, and I felt tears start to slip out.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." He pulled me closer to him. "What's happened?"
I shook my head. "Nothing. I don't know. I just woke up, and I'm not okay."
"That's okay." He held me close for a few moments.
"I can't breathe," I told him quietly.
Mac took one of my hands and placed it on his chest. He started using the seven-four breathing pattern. As his chest rose and fell under my palm, I felt my own breathing start to do the same. At first, I consciously tried to copy him, and then eventually I was following the breathing pattern of my own accord, continuing until I felt mildly better. Breathing was easier and my heart rate had started to slow as well, most likely mimicking the beat I could feel through Mac's chest.
"I'm sorry," I told him miserably.
"There's nothing to be sorry about." He kissed my forehead.
"You shouldn't have to deal with this," I told him.
"Nor should you."
"How many times are you going to wake up in the middle of the darkest nights and find me crying?" I said bitterly.
"As many times as it happens. Everyone has demons, and we both know there are nights when we wake up and the other won't be okay."

"I don't want you to have to wake up and find me in a puddle of my own tears," I told him.
"Sometimes everything becomes too much. I don't care if I find you in a puddle of your bravest tears." He smiled at me in the dark as I scoffed at his words.
"They don't seem very brave to me."

A while later, once I felt a little bit more normal, I spoke up.
"It was like there was a ball of something sitting in my stomach and winding its way up into my chest, wrapping around my lungs," I explained.
"It sounds like an anxiety attack," Mac told me. "You haven't had one of those in ages."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, everything has been going okay. I thought they'd stopped."
"Maybe everything at work just started taking its toll?" he considered.

Even though nothing serious had happened and I loved my work, especially as it was with the Phoenix Foundation with Mac, maybe something had been building up without my acknowledgement.

"Maybe, but now I just know I'm going to be tired when I get up for work tomorrow," I said dejectedly. I knew I'd been awake for about an hour and it would take me a while to get back to sleep again. Unbidden, I felt panic start to creep up in my brain. Mac must have sensed it, and he grabbed my hands.

"It's okay. Let's lie down for a moment." Once we were both lying down, Mac a comforting weight behind me with his arms wrapped around me, he spoke again. "Take a deep breath in and then tell me three things you can hear."

I breathed in and let the air out gradually before speaking. "The occasional bird chirping outside the window, the wind as it moves through the trees, your breathing,"

"Good, now can you tell me three things you can see?"
I snorted. "It's the middle of the night. The room's dark, Mac."

He hummed.

"Okay, the moonlight through the curtains, my phone on the bedside table, black as I close my eyes," I listed.
"Point taken, but we're going through this first; you know it helps."
I wanted to sleep, but he was right. It was grounding and would help me get back to sleep.
"Three things you can smell, then?"
"The laundry detergent on the sheets, the candle I had burning earlier and you."
"Hey!" he said softly. "I don't smell."
"Never said you did, love. You just smell like you; it's comforting."

He tightened his grip on me, kissing my hair. "If you're feeling better, last one. Name three things you can feel."

My eyes were starting to feel heavy, even though they were already closed. "The sheets over me, my pyjamas, and your arms holding me." I smiled.

Mac let out a soft breath, gently ruffling my hair. "Alright now?"

"I think I'll be able to sleep. Thank you," I agreed.
He bid me good night and we both feel back into sleep.

I had to be at work earlier than Mac, so I was leaving the house just as Mac started his shower. He'd woken briefly when I got out of bed but fell back to sleep when he knew I was okay. I still felt off balance. I could breathe but my head felt fuzzy, like it was filled with cotton wool and I was seeing everything from a distance. I was glad the roads were quiet as I drove to work; it meant there was one less thing I needed to worry about when I couldn't focus on more than one thing at a time. As I parked my car I inhaled slowly and then let it out as I got out and walked into work. I pushed the remaining anxiety away; it was time to focus.