All In Your Will

A short story about a young teenage boy who experiences anxiety/panic attacks.

I held onto my head harder as I tried to block out the thoughts of mass destruction that ran like a constant metre through my head. I struggled to order my thoughts. They were rascals, continuously running around and making a mess within my mind. The sound of the pitter-patter of their feet began to bounce off of the walls. I couldn’t help but curse as migraines decided to join the reception, hosted by my fears and worries. The idea of not being able to file my thoughts conquered me. I can’t do this.

Stop. Breath. Pray. Repeat.

The nerves of my system ran like wires through my body, jolting my heart forward as the multitude of intrusive thoughts created a home within my tissues, electrocuting me as they passed over my struck nerves.  The core of my body fought hard to keep my engines running. It needed fuel, yet as each litre of it made way to the passages of my bronchus, it only worsened my state. The pain that each impertinent notion brought me left me hunched over and quivering. I can’t do this.

Stop. Breath. Pray. Repeat.

My lungs worked vigorously to welcome an old guest, but she could not stay for long. I begged her to have a longer visit, pleading to her that living was not an option if she were not in my system. Although, to my surprise, as my windpipe polished its inner walls, exhausting itself with the task of being deemed special, the guest walked through the passageway and made frequent visits. This guest was always in and out of my body, but I did not mind, I will always embrace her.  As I enclosed my arms around my guest, a sense of comfort surrounded me. I can do this.

I stopped. I breathed. I prayed. I repeated.

The tips of my fingers traced crosses in the dust of my bedroom floor. The shaking of my body ceased, and my breathing returned to its normal pace. The mantra I say to escape the dark serenity of my mind eased me back into reality and I was able to become responsive again.

“Alex? Alex sweetheart can you hear me?”

As I tried to lift my weighted eyelids, I could hear the familiar voice of my mother calling out to me. Arms secured themselves underneath my own, lifting my upper body up and leaning me against my bedpost.

“Attaboy Alex. Are you alright to stay sitting up?” My father questioned, his voice laced with hidden concern.

Clearing my throat, I tried to reply. “Yeah dad, I’m alright like this” It came out as a mere whisper but took the strength of a thousand armies to utter.

“You were tracing crosses again…” Mum spoke as if she were walking near a lion's den. It was almost as if she were afraid to trigger me.

“I spoke Doctor Rammad about it. She said it could be linked to how my body physically and mentally responds to the attacks… Whenever I am having a panic attack, I follow the mantra and pray. It’s what makes me draw crosses in the dust.” I explained, struggling to put words into comprehensive sentences.

“Oh, okay. As long as it isn’t anything serious, then we aren’t too fussed about it.” Mum replied. Dad, however, stayed quiet. Working his fingers through his trimmed beard, looking lost in thought. Mum knocked her elbow into his side in an attempt to pull him out of his trance. Dad jumped at the sudden contact.

“Huh? Oh yeah. That’s all good son, as long as you’re alright.”

“Is it okay if I go to sleep? I feel drained.” I asked, hoping they’d agree like always.

“Of course sweetie, get some rest,  we’ll see you in the morning.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as Mum shut the door behind her and Dad.

I despised my attacks. They always left me tired and enduring them was torturous. I just wished I could stop the pain. I’ve prayed a million rosaries yet still I find myself prisoner to my inner demons. Perhaps it will get better. I just need to stay strong in faith and power through this hardship.

I picked myself up and sat in bed. Lying on my back, I looked up at the ceiling. At Him. Intertwining my hands, I started to pray.

“Lord, I don’t wish for you to grant me my desires. I do not wish that you relieve me of these burdens. All that I wish for is that Your will be done. I put myself into Your hands, Lord. Thank you for the blessings you have enriched me with. I will try to maintain my faith, Lord. I trust in You. Amen.”

Turning over, I waited for sleep to engulf me. It will take its time as always, for my anxiety never gifted me with rest. I closed my eyes and awaited the intrusive thoughts, but they never came. Sleep and serenity took over me. It coiled itself around my body and hugged me tightly. The comfort of its embrace welcomed me into a state of mind I had never encountered before. The light blue of its walls lured me in, the soft, grey carpet of the floor provided me with serenity. The soft patter of rain against the window calmed me and the playing of Clair de lune soothed me. I had done it. I had finally accomplished the one goal I had in life. I was happy. After years and years of exploitation to my heart and mind, I finally am experiencing pure joy.

It truly is all in Your will, God. All in Your will.