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Panic Attack 2

I couldn't breathe.
My chest jumped with forced half heaves, the air trying to scramble into my lungs, my lungs refusing.
I just couldn't goddamn breathe.
The tears flowed, I wasn't conscious of them for a while, until the fragile skin under my eyes started to sting with the sudden overdose of salt.
I couldn't breathe, but I could stand and wring my fingers through my hair, trying to explain why I was panicking to a concerned teacher through chaotic breathes, barely able to speak.
I couldn't breathe as I tried to smile at my newly found friends who looked at me both concerned and confused, unsure of what to do or say, whether to stay or go.
I couldn't breathe as I was so utterly dissapointed at the fact that I hadn't had a panic attack in school all year, but I was having the worst panic attack I'd ever had at that moment.

I couldn't fucking breathe because a teacher, a male over six foot, decided to completely lose the plot at me, telling me that I was going to fail my exams and have to repeat because I wasn't in class.
And why wasn't I in class? I was talking to my year head about my oral exam on Monday, and how the school could help me cope with my anxiety.
What type of teacher is that?

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I write a new blog post every week. Though, some are heavy, like this one, I hope you find comfort if you experience the same or it helps you to understand your loved ones with mental illness.
Check back each week for a new blog post, and follow on social media for updates ^-^
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