Jack had an anxiety attack last night. A bad one. I'd never seen him this bad in all the time that I've known him. He was pressed into the corner swatting at monsters coming to get him. For a moment I thought it was a violent vision, but no, he was just beside himself.
It took me too long to realize it. Jack perpetually smells of fear, and has a habit of dropping things. So when I heard the cup fall, I just assumed he'd spilled his drink again. The fear came once as a wave. It wasn't until I heard the huffing from his room that I was aware of a problem.Cody said he's had that problem before, where he'd be listening to music and nearly missed Jack's fit.
Walking in his room, I find a grown man jammed in the corners, in his pajamas, hand sliced open. His horrified eyes bore into me. "Fix it!" he hissed over and over. Normally, I would have called Cody, but the sight of the blood and the absolute terror in his eyes pushed the thought aside. I grabbed the towel from the bathroom and held his hands, pulling a shard out. Wrapped, I kept him in place, telling him over and over that everything would be okay. Over and over and over I said it, with every 'Fix it" he demanded of me. His breathing was shaky, and I could hear his heart hammering like a double kick. It took two hours to calm him down, though whether it was from my help, or sheer exhaustion I wasn't sure. He descended into sobs, huge gulping sobs.
The sobs faded. I got him to the bathroom, cleaned his hands, got him his mouth guard and had him drink a glass of water. He flumped into bed, clutching the pillow against him. I asked him if he wanted company for the night. He just nodded, starring off into space. I fell asleep on the floor beside his bed, but it wasn't consistent Two hours later he was awake again, almost at the same state as when I found him. Another hour to calm him down. It happened twice more, and so I mentioned the hospital at 3 am.
That was a mistake. It sent him nearly over the edge. I had to hold him down to keep him from crawling out of the window, and we're on the seventh floor. By they time he'd settled again it was eight, the sun was up.
He's sitting across from me, and I've just called the school to tell them he'll be missing it. I'm calling Cody when I'm done this. Jack asked me to stay with him today, so I'm forgoing class. He doesn't even want to touch his drum kit, or talk to Lola. I'm really worried about him.
Jack is a little over half a foot taller than me, long and lanky.
I'd never seen him so utterly overwhelmed by his troubles before.
I will keep you posted.
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