Leilani
Things only got worse. I don't know what I was expecting, and I don't know why it was happening. It just did.
My dad cornered me in the afternoon. He must have had a late start because I expected him to be at work already. I was sitting at the island in the kitchen, scrolling on my phone when he came in and started talking to me.
"Nothing on the job front yet?" he asked.
"No," I shook my head, not looking up from my phone.
He sighed then. "Honestly, Leilani, I don't know why you're being like this. Would've thought you'd have found something by now. Or at least got an interview or two."
I pressed my lips together, bracing myself for what I was about to say. "I just haven't been feeling well." I explained. "And focusing on Uni."
My dad scoffed. "Right. Okay, love." He grabbed his car keys from a bowl on the side. "Everyone goes through rough patches, you know. There's nothing wrong with you."
"Ok, dad." I mumbled. Yeah, I'm sure everyone thinks about jumping out their window or can't breathe in the middle of a shopping centre. Totally normal behaviour on my part.
I heard him go and my sweaty fingers gripped my phone. I was feeling sick again. My empty stomach was almost compressing itself. Leaning my elbow on the counter, I rested my mouth in my sweaty palm, trying to keep my breathing deep and even. There was no time for breakdowns now, I had homework to do.
I grabbed my laptop from the side and opened up a new document. I was supposed to be doing a short exercise for a lecture later that evening using one of the prompts that had been given to us. Walking through a forest, was the one I picked.
Imagine the sights, smells, sounds, and what the forest feels like. I tried to picture it in my head. Trees, leaves, paths, the sky, the ground. It was so basic, like a child's drawing. Stick figures and colours outside the lines. I distantly thought of a rope swing hanging from a tree branch, without the wood. A twisted rope tied up into a noose, swinging in the breeze.
I ran a hand through my hair. Focus. There's nothing wrong with me.
A forest, full of fireflies at night. Clouds covering the moon. A broken treeline at the edge of a cliff. A cliff so high with sharp rocks at the bottom. Stepping off the side.
I stared at the blank page in front of me. Not a single word could I muster there. How hard was it to write five hundred words? And why? What was the point, if I didn't really want to be there? If I didn't really want to do anything?
My vision blurred and I frowned painfully, putting a hand over my mouth to quietly sob. I knew my mum was just upstairs and I didn't want to talk to her about this. How could I?
Soon enough I had to remove my hand though, as I was struggling to breathe between the sobs. I gasped for air, realising my lungs were starving, just like the other day. My hands were numb, like a thousand needles were pricking them, and I couldn't feel my jaw or lips anymore.
I was gasping so hard for air, running my hands through my hair, standing up and pacing across the kitchen. I leaned over one of the counters and then put my back to it, touching my sweaty face.
My mum came through the doorway then, pale with wide eyes. I stared at her, my face covered in tears, breathless and shaking.
She snatched her keys from the side and took my hand, pulling be through to the hallway. "We're going to the hospital. Now." She stated firmly, looking terrified.
She ushered me out of the front door, slipping her shoes on and gabbing a pair of mine. In the car, I put my head in my hands, struggling for air whilst crying. I tried to close my eye, remembering what Jasper had told me to do before, but I felt too sick. Despite it being cold outside, I opened the window, gasping for oxygen. I could feel my mum looking at me whenever she could, her head turning from the road to me and back to the road.
At one of the traffic lights stops, I leant back in my seat, my lungs seeming to start functioning properly again. I took a long deep breath, trying to hold it for as long as possible before letting it go. The hospital sign came into view and another wave of sickness hit me.
"Mum, I don't- I'm ok now." I mumbled, another tear falling.
"No, you're not." She started pulling up into a parking spot, adamant on taking me in.
I really didn't want this to happen. I was fine now. I'd just be getting in the way of all the people who had real problems. There was nothing wrong with me that a doctor could fix. It was something I had to deal with on my own. I just had to pull myself together and stop being such a bloody mess. I had to be better. I had to work harder.
My mum opened my door for me, and I struggled getting my shoes on with my shaking hands. I tried to do up the laces but she pulled me out the car.
"It doesn't matter about those," she said, "Let's go."
With her arm around me, we walked into the waiting room. "Sit down," she said, leading me to an empty seat and then rushing over to the reception desk. "My daughter needs help; she couldn't breathe. Some kind of attack-," I heard her saying.
I took my glasses off, put them in my lap, and covered my face with my hands to try and block everything out, resting my elbows on my thighs. Fresh tears started building up under my fingers, mingling with the sweat. God, what was gunna happen now?
My mum touched my shoulder and I looked up at her, probably a huge mess. "We can go in, now." She said. "Come on." I couldn't see her well without my glasses on, but I knew she was probably determined to get me seen to right away.
I picked up my glasses, trying to wipe my eyes clear as we walked down the long white corridor. I put them back on as my mum slowed at one of the doors. The nurse must have told her which room we had to go into.
As soon as my mum opened the door, she was already barking orders. "You have to help my daughter! She couldn't breathe all the way here."
A pale blonde man in a white coat stood up from by the computer in the corner. "What's your name?" he asked me, in a calm voice.
"Leilani," I answered and sniffed. "I'm ok now."
"Alright, why don't you sit down, Leilani." He patted the examining table. "I'm Dr. Cullen."
I did what he said, and my mum hovered nearby. There were other chairs, but she had opted to stand. "I'm ok now. I'm sure there are other people who need your help more."
My mum shook her head. "Stop it." She said to me.
Dr Cullen smiled warmly and I stopped gripping the edge of the plastic, playing with my numb hands in my lap instead, twisting one of my rings around my finger.
The doctor pulled a stool over and sat down in front of me. "All of my patients are important. Why don't you tell me what happened?" he asked.
"I walked into the kitchen," my Mum explained. "She was gasping for air and crying, all pale. She was like that all the way here."
The doctor glanced at her, "Ok, but what were you doing before that?" he turned to me. "Do you know what triggered this?"
My heart was still racing so I had to take another deep breath. "I don't know." I sighed.
"How about I listen to your heart first then? To make sure everything's ok?" he asked me.
I nodded. He got out his stethoscope and asked me to lift my shirt. I did what he told me.
"Any chest pains? Heart palpitations?"
"Sometimes," I said.
Dr Cullen put the device back around his neck, and I pulled my shirt down again.
"Is this the first time this has happened?"
"No."
My mum made a noise, like she wanted to cut in, but Dr Cullen spoke before she could.
"When was the first time?"
"Last week," I answered. "I don't know why it happened then either."
"What's been going on at the moment? Are you working, studying?"
"I go to the Uni here. I'm doing my Masters."
He raised his eyebrows. "That must be quite difficult?"
"Um," I paused. "Yeah a bit."
"So, you would say that's stressful?"
Slowly I nodded again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" my Mum finally interjected into the conversation. "I didn't know you were struggling with it?"
"It's- um," I wanted to tell her it was ok, but I wasn't able to make the words come out. It was a lie, and I didn't want to lie to her. I looked away, staring at one of the cabinets nearby.
"She just moved back in with me and her dad," my Mum continued talking. "And she just got made redundant from her retail job."
"I see."
"What's all this got to do with her breathing?" she questioned.
He ignored her. "What were you thinking about, before you couldn't breathe?"
I swallowed. "Um," I looked at my mum. She was watching me, waiting for me to explain myself.
"Maybe it will be easier if you wait outside, Mrs…" Dr Cullen suggested.
"Westbrooke." She replied, not taking her eyes off me.
I nodded to her, trying to tell her it was ok.
She stiffened, although turned anyway and closed the door behind her.
"Leilani," Dr Cullen spoke. "What were you thinking about?" he repeated.
My eyes filled with tears again and I pulled off my glasses. It made it easier not being able to see the doctor, and I could put my hands over my eyes.
"Dying." I put my hands down, sniffing. "But I don't – I'm not going to – I don't know." I took another deep breath. "I don't know why I… feel bad all the time. I don't know what to do." I covered my face once more, letting out a sob.
"Leilani," Dr Cullen said softly, waiting for me to look at him.
Slowly I put my hands down, seeing his face full of concern and encouragement.
"I'm going to refer you on to a mental health specialist. They will call you in the next few days. And in the meantime, prescribe you an SSRI medication, one to be taken every day. Would that be ok?" He held out a box of tissues for me.
"Thanks." I took one, grateful. "Yeah, I think that's ok."
"It sounds like you were having a panic attack. Terrifying if you don't know how to get through them. I have some resources here…" He got up and opened one of the filing cabinets. There was a rustling of papers as he shuffled through until he found what he was looking for.
Dr Cullen handed me a small pile of leaflets. Looking through them I saw big text proclaiming help with depression and anxiety.
"There's some advice in there, websites, helpline numbers, things to do. Please have a look through them tonight. I really think they can help you."
"Thank you," I said, glancing over a couple of them. There was a step by step guide of what to do during a panic attack.
"Shall I let your mother back in?" he asked.
"Yeah."
When he opened the door, she had her phone in her hand. "Well?" she asked, stepping back into the room.
"As I was just explaining to Leilani, Mrs Westbrooke, I believe she was experiencing a panic attack and I will refer her on to a mental health specialist. I've also prescribed her an SSRI," he held up a slip of paper. "And I will also be writing you off for your studies for the next four weeks."
Four weeks? Of sitting at home and feeling sorry for myself?
My mum seemed to echo my aversion to that idea. "Is that really necessary? Won't she fall behind?"
"There are many procedures in place for illnesses during the semester." Dr Cullen exclaimed. "This won't be the first time a student is ill." He turned to me and handed me my prescription. "Expect that phone call in a few days."
"What, that's it?" my mum stared at him. "You're not going to keep her here?"
He shook his head. "There's really no reason to. It would be better to be at home with your family."
My mum bit her lip.
"Is something wrong?"
"Well my husband and I aren't often at home…"
"Do you have a friend that can visit? You shouldn't be alone. Especially not this evening."
I half smiled and shrugged.
"I can't take tonight off. There's no one to cover me." My mum said.
"Just one night? For your daughter?" He furrowed his brow.
"If she needs someone to care for her then she needs a bed." She said, frowning.
"That's not possible. We would only keep someone who is a danger to others or themselves."
"Not possible?" she was fuming now. "You don't have a single bed?"
"Mum…" I rubbed the back of my neck, my eyes pleading with her not to. I didn't want to stay in the hospital!
She seemed to be testing even the calm doctor's patience. "I have an idea," he said. "An unusual one."
My mum blinked, waiting for him to tell us.
"I believe you're friends with some of my children." He said to me. "Emmett, Alice, and Jasper."
So, this was their father? Fuck. I hope he took doctor patient confidentiality seriously. I didn't need them hearing about my messed-up brain.
"Um, yeah, kind of."
"I actually finish my shift in ten minutes. Perhaps you would like to visit and have dinner with your friends? You wouldn't be alone, and I could even keep an eye on you. You're more than welcome to stay."
I hated and liked the thought at the same time. It would feel very weird to just show up, and I'd only hung out with them a few times. Also, they would see me the state that I am: absolute shit. But maybe it would be fun? Maybe Jasper and Emmett would be up for some video games? And Alice seemed to like me.
Seeming to sense my uncertainty, Dr Cullen broke the short silence, "I could make a phone call and see."
"Ok," I smiled slightly, "Yes, please."
He smiled back, genuinely looking pleased. "Alright."
My mum sighed and finally relaxed. She smiled. "You're ok then," she said, before giving me a kiss on the forehead, and putting her arm around me. "I didn't even know you had any friends here."
Jesus. I wanted to disappear again. At least Dr Cullen slipped out the room to go and call his family.
I could only imagine how the phone call would go. Hey, Alice, Jasper, Emmett. That girl you told me about who you're friends with? Yeah, she's super fucked up. Please have dinner with her so she doesn't try and off herself? What? You actually don't like her at all anymore? Yeah makes sense. I'll go and get her sent upstairs to psychiatrics instead. Love you.
Fuck me…