A show gone wrong, a knife in the arm, a fall on stage. That's what you remember before hitting your head. And Bosco shouting your name. Loud.
The next time you open your eyes, you're being carried in his arms and you can see the stars until a van door opens and the cushions in the back seat welcome you. Voices talking over each other, shushing each other. You wince and the arms hold you tighter, protective wrapping around you, and a whispered, “I've got you.”
Then it's: your head in Bosco’s lap, fingers in your hair, June holding your hand, Charlie making sure that your arm has been wrapped well enough to staunch the bleeding. Atlas and Merritt are arguing in the front seat and getting louder all the time, Henley's got the first aid kit, Jack and Lula are googling your symptoms on their phones and they cannot agree on a diagnosis. Bosco hasn't looked away from you once. He's covering one of your ears with his hand, the other ear pressed into his stomach to keep the volume down for you. Their devotion is overwhelming at times and Bosco knows better than most that you get anxious.
The cut on your arm ends up being not that bad. Pretty shallow, all things considered. You may have a concussion. But your resourceful family acted quick. They are magicians, after all. Rest is the best medicine. And laughter, of course, but that will come later.
Everyone hovers, but none of them admit that they're hovering. You feel loved.
------
“Get some sleep, kid, and don't scare us like that again,” Merritt shuts the door. Atlas says something snarky to him on the other side but you can't quite make it out. The rest of your little family unit have gone to bed. They'll be fighting for the next week, at least, about what happened. Bosco has refused to leave your room, and now you're alone for the first time in hours.
“You did scare us,” Bosco can't meet your eyes when he says it. He's been hovering just the same, but he's been quiet. Always stoic, this one, a brick wall of a facial expression, armed guards manning the turrets. But somehow his eyes always find yours in a crowd, and the windows of the fortress are never shuttered with you. A wink and a smirk to do you in. And when you smile and laugh, it's like his eyes get brighter. No explanation for it, but the softness between you two doesn't need words. It just exists and that's enough. His walls are coming down.
“I thought I had it, and you know I hate heights,” you're embarrassed, and yet, a little vindicated. You can't meet his eyes either. Falling only feels like flying until you hit the ground. You've said it a million times. Atlas didn't listen to your concerns and you're sure he's probably kicking himself for it now, even though he wouldn't admit it.
Bosco had tried to catch you but it didn't stop you from hitting your head on the way down. It will probably be a long time until you feel comfortable with a knife trick like that again, or even any trick at all. Tonight was Murphy's law at its finest. The evacuation of the venue: stressful. Now your body feels drained. Empty. There's a heaviness on your head and chest that makes you sink into the blankets. You're losing the battle with your thoughts but the exhaustion is also too much. Mind busy, body drowsy, pulled in two different directions. Overwhelming.
Bosco takes your hand and tightens his grip just enough to bring you back to the present. You finally get the nerve to meet his gaze and the concern and understanding that you see there is enough to make your vision blur. The tears catch you both by surprise. Bosco lets his tears slip quietly down but he wipes yours gently with a thumb. He's never cried with you. To see it sends a pain to your chest, that he soothes with the pressure of his hand. You want to make him okay again. You're both crying but you're only thinking of him.
“I don't know what happened. I thought I had it but I panicked and the timing was off and I really, really don't like heights. I was already anxious and then… I don't know…” Bosco rubs your knuckles with his thumb and lifts your hand to his mouth for a kiss. You trail off. There's nothing left to say.
“Scoot over,” he nudges you and nods his head toward your pillows.
You make room and open up the blankets so he can climb in next to you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, an arm under your head and an arm around your waist, palm flat to your back. He rubs soothing circles and holds you tight. You feel a kiss on the top of your head. This is the safest place, here, with him holding you. The disaster of a show is nearly forgotten in this bedroom. His long body, a shield against whatever thoughts try to make themselves known.
“I won't let them make you go up there again. And I'll make sure to be there to catch you any time you fall. No more heights and no more knives. We'll leave that to Henley and Jack,” he huffs what constitutes his version of a laugh. Your head is pressed into his chest and your eyes are closed but you can see the smirk anyway. “You'll be on the ground with me and the props, from now on,” a tight squeeze of his arms. “And Atlas can deal with it. I'm not letting anything happen to you.” The pressure of his chin in your hair. Your breaths begin to match his, and this is the first time all night that you've truly relaxed.
The little hitch in his breath and the tremble in his voice have you pulling him tighter. You'll hold him all night to put the pieces of him back together again. You know he'll hold you through anything. A man of actions more than words. And you'll do the same to let him know you care. It's enough for you both to know that the other one is there. Together you doze off in the warmth of your bed.
Charlie and June find you in the morning and take plenty of pictures. For posterity, of course. They let you sleep in for a long time.
SUMMARY:
YN’s hidden anxiety spirals into a severe panic attack at the BAU. Her boyfriend, Spencer, finds her, unaware of how bad her anxiety truly was.
WORDS: 3653
WARNINGS:
Panic attack, anxiety, fainting, unconsciousness -- its bad but also, comforting Spencer Reid and a bit of fluff at the end :)
Find the rest of the Alphabet Imagines here!
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YN had spent the entire day telling herself she could handle it. She’d smiled at Spencer that morning, kissed him softly, whispered that she was “just tired.” He had smiled back, oblivious, completely unaware of the storm building inside her. She hated herself for the deception.
She had felt the creeping edges of this panic all week, the subtle tremors in her hands, the restless tapping of her fingers, the shallow breaths she didn’t let him notice. Spencer had seen some of it, just enough to glance at her with concern, to ask gently if she was okay, but she had brushed it off every time. She didn’t want to burden him. He had his own struggles. She didn’t want him to see her unravel, to see the messy, fragile side of her she fought so hard to hide.
But now, alone in the quiet BAU office, she could no longer hold herself together. The fluorescent lights hummed insistently above, bright and oppressive. Shadows stretched long and crooked across the room, and her thoughts raced uncontrollably, bouncing from one worst-case scenario to another. The papers on her desk blurred; the words she was reading dissolved into shapes she couldn’t decipher.
Her chest began to tighten, painfully, like someone had wrapped an iron band around it. She pressed her palms against her ribs, gasping for air, trying to convince herself to slow down, to control it. Her fingers dug into her palms, trying to ground herself, trying to find purchase on the world, but it was slipping. Every thought spiralled further, every heartbeat thundered louder.
She tried to breathe. She tried to sit upright, straighten herself, focus—but the tremor in her legs intensified, and the pressure in her chest became unbearable. She sank to the floor, curling in on herself, hugging her knees, rocking slightly in a desperate rhythm. Her fingers clutched her arms, as if holding herself together could stave off the panic, could keep the world from spinning out of control.
Not now. Not in front of him. He doesn’t need to see this. He shouldn’t see this.
But she couldn’t stop it.
The trembling, the gasping, the dizzying thoughts consumed her, and the office felt impossibly vast, the lights too bright, the shadows too sharp. Her stomach churned, and tears burned her eyes. She had never let herself fall apart like this. Not at home. Not with Spencer. Not anywhere. And yet, here she was, completely overtaken by a panic she couldn’t contain.
Spencer appeared at the doorway just then, stepping into the dim office with his usual careful gait. His eyes immediately fell on her small, trembling form huddled on the floor, and a flash of concern crossed his features. He had noticed subtle signs of anxiety before, the restless energy, the tiny tremors in her hands, but he had never seen her completely break down. Not like this. Not so raw, so vulnerable, so utterly undone.
“YN?” His voice was gentle, cautious, and deliberate, carrying across the room without startling her.
She pressed her face into her knees, trying to shrink further, hoping somehow he wouldn’t notice the full extent of her panic. “I…I’m fine,” she whispered, though her voice trembled and cracked.
Spencer knelt beside her instantly, careful not to crowd her, eyes scanning for the telltale signs he knew well: the shallow, rapid breaths, the trembling limbs, the tension in her posture. He recognised the full-blown panic attack before her words could convince him otherwise, but he also saw the flickers of subtle anxiety she had tried to hide all week.
He didn’t rush to touch her. He didn’t demand that she speak. He simply lowered himself to her level, close enough that she could sense his presence, steady and grounding, without overwhelming her.
“You’re not fine,” he said softly, his voice low and unwavering. “And that’s okay. I’m right here. You don’t have to face this alone.”
Her chest heaved. She wanted to push back, to vanish, to prove that she could be strong on her own, but the warmth radiating from him was undeniable. His calm, careful attention, the gentle curiosity he always carried toward her, this time directed at her fear, was a lifeline.
Slowly, hesitantly, she let him draw near. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, just enough for her to feel contact without feeling pressured. She trembled against it, but the small, steady touch grounded her.
“I’ve seen the signs before,” he murmured, voice soft against her ear. “The restless hands, the tension… but I’ve never seen you like this. And that’s okay. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Spencer stayed beside her, kneeling on the floor, careful not to crowd her. His hand rested lightly on her back, rubbing slow, reassuring circles, his voice low and steady. “You’re safe, YN. I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you right now. Just… breathe with me.”
She tried. She wanted to. But the panic wasn’t listening. Every word he spoke felt muffled, distant, swallowed by the chaos in her mind. The room spun, shadows lengthened and twisted, and every thought she had became a jagged edge against her chest.
I’m not enough. I’m broken. He’s going to regret being with me. I’m too much. Too fragile. Too… wrong.
Her breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts. She pressed her face into her knees, trembling so violently that she shook the floor beneath her. Her fingers clawed at her arms, digging in as if holding herself together with sheer force of will could keep the panic at bay. But the harder she tried, the faster it raced, consuming every rational thought, every fragile bit of calm she had been clinging to.
Spencer’s concern deepened, though his voice never wavered. “YN… look at me,” he murmured. “You’re safe. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She shook her head violently, her sobs breaking through in jagged bursts. Her mind was a maelstrom of dark, relentless thoughts. What if I ruin everything? What if he hates seeing me like this? What if I can’t ever be okay again? Each image, each fear, each fragment of self-doubt collided with the next, forming a storm she couldn’t escape.
Spencer tried to ground her. “Breathe with me, okay? In… and out… slow.” He counted softly, his hand pressing gently to her shoulder, urging her back to the present.
But the spiral ignored him. Her body jerked with panic, trembling so hard that even the floor beneath her seemed unsteady. Her chest ached, constricted under the weight of invisible hands, and her throat tightened so she could barely swallow. She wanted to scream, to beg the panic to stop, to plead for him to make it all vanish, but her mind refused.
Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I stop this? He’s going to leave. He’s going to see how broken I am.
Spencer’s eyes flicked over her trembling form. He had noticed the small signs before—the restless hands, the tension in her shoulders, but this… this was something different. Something stronger, darker, and he couldn’t figure out why it had escalated so suddenly. He had no blueprint for this level of panic, no clear cause he could address. All he could do was stay, keep his presence steady, keep speaking softly, even as helplessness gnawed at him.
“It’s okay,” he said again, voice almost a whisper. “I see you. I hear you. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here.”
Her head shook violently against her knees, her sobs wracking her body in relentless waves. Her thoughts spiralled even further, darker than before: I can’t be fixed. I’ll never be okay. I’m too broken for anyone to love me. Why did he even stay? Each thought was a clawing, twisting knife, and no matter how gently Spencer held her, no matter how much patience he poured into his words, it barely scratched the surface of the storm raging in her mind.
Spencer’s hand moved to her hair, brushing it gently away from her face, his touch firm yet tender. “Shh… I’ve got you, YN. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you.”
She flinched slightly at the contact, her body trembling harder. The panic was relentless, and her mind raced even faster. Every comforting word seemed swallowed by the chaos in her head. The room spun. The lights were too bright. Her chest heaved so violently it felt like it might crack and Spencer realised, despite all his experience, all his careful patience, he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t know what triggered this, what had caused her to spiral so completely. Every technique he tried, every grounding word, every gentle touch, none of it reached her. He could only hold her, whisper to her, stay by her side, helplessly hoping that his presence alone could anchor her even slightly.
Her sobs grew sharper, her trembling more violent, her gasps coming in desperate bursts. Spencer leaned closer, lowering his voice further, trying to penetrate the fog of fear. “I’m right here. You’re not alone. I’ll stay with you until this passes. I promise.”
She clutched him anyway, her body shaking uncontrollably, tears streaking her cheeks. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the darkness, wouldn’t stop the avalanche of fear and doubt. He didn’t know how to reach it, didn’t know why it had taken hold so fiercely. All he could do was stay, steady and present, a calm in the eye of her storm, hoping that even the smallest thread of comfort could somehow tether her to reality.
“YN… look at me. In… and out with me. Slowly, okay? Breathe with me.”
She shook her head violently, pressing her face into her knees, rocking slightly. Her breaths came in short, jagged gasps, each inhale more desperate than the last. Spencer’s heart clenched as he watched her struggle, the subtle signs of anxiety he had noticed before now blown wide open, fully consuming her. He had never seen her like this, completely overwhelmed.
“YN, come on,” he murmured, keeping his voice low, calm, a lifeline. “In… and out. I’ve got you. Breathe with me. You’re safe.”
She tried. She wanted to. She pressed her hands to her chest, willing herself to follow his rhythm. But the panic refused. Every inhale felt too shallow, every exhale like she was suffocating. The darkness in her thoughts grew sharper, more insistent. I’m broken. I can’t be enough. He’s going to see me like this and leave. I’m too much.
Her body shook violently, trembling from head to toe. Her sobs broke through in ragged bursts. Spencer’s voice stayed soft, unyielding, counting, coaxing. “In… and out… slower. You can do this. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
She jerked against him, resisting, shaking her head, trying to fight the panic and the suffocating weight of her own thoughts. But the harder she tried, the faster her breaths came, the tighter her chest constricted. Her body was betraying her, and Spencer realised that forcing her to breathe, trying to fight the panic with her, was only making it worse.
“YN,” he said gently, pressing a hand to her shoulder, guiding her into a more upright position. “It’s okay. You don’t have to fight it anymore. You don’t have to hold yourself up. Just… let go. I’ve got you.”
She blinked at him, wide-eyed, shaking her head. “No… I… I…” she gasped. Her arms clutched at herself, at the floor, at anything she could reach, as though letting go meant falling apart entirely.
“You’re not falling,” he whispered, pulling her closer, letting her slump against him, his arms wrapping securely around her. “I’m right here. I’ll keep you safe. Let go. Just let go.”
She tried to fight it, every instinct screaming at her to hold on, to breathe, to resist. Her body trembled violently, muscles taut with terror. She fought his gentle hold, twisting slightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sobs shook her chest so hard she could barely draw a full breath.
“Shhh… I’m here,” Spencer murmured, his lips brushing her hairline. “You don’t have to fight it anymore. Just let go.”
But her panic refused. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps, each inhale more desperate than the last. Her chest constricted painfully, the room tilting, spinning, pressing down. She tried to force herself upright, tried to fight against the surrender he offered, but the lack of oxygen, the exhaustion from the panic, was unstoppable.
Spencer held her close, whispering again, steadying her trembling form. “It’s okay, YN. I’ve got you. Let it go. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her arms weakened, her body sagging into his. The tremors still racked her, but slowly, inexorably, she surrendered. Her head slumped against his chest, and with one final shuddering gasp, her body gave out entirely. She passed out in his arms, limp and trembling, utterly spent from the panic and the struggle to maintain control.
Spencer’s heart ached, but he didn’t panic. He kept her close, rocking her gently, pressing soft kisses to her temple and hair, murmuring reassurances over and over. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m right here.”
Her body was limp against him, breathing shallow and uneven but alive. The storm in her mind hadn’t fully passed, but she had let herself surrender, allowed herself to be cared for, and in that fragile, exhausted moment, Spencer held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, because to him, she was.
Spencer shifted carefully, moving slowly so as not to jostle her fragile, unconscious body. He eased her fully into his lap, letting her head rest against him, and wrapped an arm around her, holding her gently but firmly. Her arms lay limply at her sides, her trembling finally stilled by exhaustion.
He brushed a soft hand through her hair, untangling strands that had fallen across her face. His fingers traced small, soothing circles along her scalp, and he murmured quietly, his voice low and steady.
“You’re safe, YN. I’ve got you. Just rest. I’ll stay with you.”
Even in stillness, she seemed delicate, her body tense in ways that spoke of how close she had come to breaking completely. Every shallow breath, every faint tremor, made his chest tighten. He adjusted her gently, supporting her back so she wouldn’t slump too heavily, holding her as if the strength of his arms could shield her from everything else.
His lips brushed against her hairline as he continued to murmur softly. Each word was careful, measured, meant to reach her even if she could not respond. He stroked her hair slowly, letting his fingers glide through the strands, and the steady motion seemed to settle her tiny tremors ever so slightly.
The office around them was quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights the only sound besides her uneven breaths. He held her closer, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head and whispering reassurance again and again. Her chest rose and fell slowly, each breath fragile, uneven, but alive.
Spencer’s hands remained in her hair, moving with careful, unhurried patience. His arms circled her back, firm but gentle, a steady weight that kept her grounded. She might not have been conscious of it, but she was not alone and that was enough for now.
Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and reluctant, as if even opening them was a burden. A soft groan escaped her throat, barely audible, and she shifted slightly, pressing closer against Spencer without fully waking. His hands tightened gently around her, keeping her anchored, letting her movement be small and safe.
“Hey… it’s okay,” he murmured softly, his lips brushing her hair. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Just stay with me for a moment.”
She blinked slowly, vision blurred, taking in the faint shapes around her. The office lights felt too bright, the quiet too sharp, and the edges of the panic still lingered like a shadow at the back of her mind. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, and a small shiver ran through her body.
Spencer shifted slightly, tilting her head gently to rest more comfortably in his lap. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face and held her softly against him. “It’s alright,” he whispered. “You’re with me. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
Her fingers twitched slightly, brushing against his shirt, as if seeking the reassurance he offered. She let out a shaky breath, small and uneven, her body still trembling, but there was a faint sign of calm beginning to return. Spencer’s hand moved to her back, rubbing gentle, circular motions, the rhythmic touch a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “You just rest. I’ve got you.”
Slowly, the tension in her shoulders eased a little, her trembling softening. Her breathing was still fragile, but steadier than before, and her eyes blinked up at him, hazy but aware. She tried to speak, her voice a small whisper, but it faltered.
“I… I’m… sorry,” she managed, the words trembling along with her body.
Spencer shook his head gently, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “No need to apologise,” he said. “You don’t have to. I’m just glad you’re here. That’s all that matters.”
Her hand curled around his, holding on as if anchoring herself to him. Spencer’s thumb moved in slow, comforting circles over her knuckles. The panic hadn’t vanished completely, but the storm had begun to recede. For the first time since it started, she let herself lean fully into his presence, fragile and vulnerable, trusting him completely.
“You’re safe,” he murmured again, voice steady, soft, unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re okay.”
Her eyes closed briefly, exhaustion overtaking her again, but this time in a quiet, restful way. Spencer held her, brushing her hair and murmuring gentle reassurances, letting the silence fill the space with safety. And for the first time since the panic had taken hold, she allowed herself to simply exist in that space, held, protected, and unafraid.
She blinked a few times, taking in Spencer’s steady presence, the quiet hum of the office, and the protective weight of him holding her.
“Can I help you sit up?” Spencer murmured softly, careful not to jostle her.
She nodded weakly, and he moved slowly, lifting her into a seated position. She settled between his legs, her back resting against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. His embrace was warm and steady, a lifeline against the lingering tremors in her body.
Spencer’s hands moved gently through her hair, stroking small, reassuring circles. “There you go,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”
Her hands clutched his lightly, grounding herself in his presence. She drew in a shaky breath, still feeling the remnants of panic tightening her chest. Spencer’s voice was soft, careful, as he asked, “YN… can you tell me what caused it? What brought on the attack?”
Her eyes dropped to her lap, fingers twisting nervously in his. Her voice was barely audible. “I… I’ve had anxiety for a long time,” she admitted. “I’ve been trying to hide it… from everyone. From you. I didn’t want to… be too much. I thought I could handle it on my own.”
Her chest heaved with a shuddering breath, and she pressed a hand lightly against his arm.
Spencer tightened his arms around her gently, holding her closer. “YN… you’re not too much,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide this from me. I’m here for all of it, for the hard parts, the messy parts, everything. You don’t have to face it alone.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she exhaled shakily, leaning more fully against him. “I just… I didn’t want to burden you,” she whispered.
“You’re not a burden,” he said firmly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “You’re someone I love. And loving you means being here for you, through everything, the dark, the messy, the anxious moments. Always.”
She let herself relax, trembling less as she rested against him. The panic hadn’t fully disappeared, but the knowledge that she didn’t have to hide it, that she didn’t have to handle it alone, made it feel a little more manageable. Spencer held her quietly, stroking her hair and murmuring gentle reassurances, letting her settle into the safety of his arms.
For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to breathe again, letting the tension loosen slowly, knowing she was truly seen and cared for.
he let herself rest her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It felt like a promise, one she could cling to without fear. “Thank you,” she murmured, voice small but sincere.
“For what?” he asked gently, brushing her hair back from her face.
“For… staying,” she said. “For not letting me face it alone.”
Spencer smiled softly, nuzzling her hair. “I’ll always stay. You never have to do this by yourself.”
For a long, quiet moment, they simply held each other, the world outside fading away. The panic had passed, leaving behind exhaustion, but also a fragile sense of calm. YN let herself breathe fully again, letting the tension seep out with each exhale, and for the first time in a long while, she felt safe, truly safe, in his arms.
She lifted her head slightly, looking up at him, and he met her gaze with a warmth that made her chest ache in the best way. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” he replied, his voice steady, sure, and full of the care he had shown every second of the night.
And for that moment, fragile and precious, everything else fell away. There was no panic, no fear, no shadows. Just them, held together, and the quiet certainty that neither would ever let go.
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Actually, nobody likes you when you're depressed. Plain and simple. We can talk all day about mental health and how important it is, but the moment you are depressed, people start to distance themselves.
They see you as negative, a burden, and someone too heavy to handle.
*you saw Rikki sitting by a lake staring at a case, but she was just staring not doing anything like she was zoning out not paying attention to the background*
not really sure how to explain to my mom that my diagnosed anxiety means that. yeah. sometimes i literally cannot control my worrying. telling me i need to stop is not helping and is actually making it worse.
dont get me wrong, i know shes just trying her best. but its still hard. :(
Please do not feel obligated to read this if you don't feel comfortable.
I just feel so alone. It feels like if I tell anyone what's going on in my head that they'll jus ignore me or pity me or tel me that I need to get help ( which I'm not denying that I do, I'm just having a hard time doin it). And I'm so scared because being alone is so scary. I wanna be small so so bad but I can't get time by myself to. And I'm not gonna lie I'm partly slippin just writing this. I jus wish that I could mak all of my anxity go away because mabee I feel lonly because my anxiety is isolatin me. I don no
Im sorry again mama but thanks you for listenin it meens a whole super duper bunch that u care about not jus me but evryone! I think u do that cuz ur the bestest nicest shark ever!! I think ur the bestest cuz u listen and care even when I am not doin good an u try to help me feel beter no mater wat. That meens ur like a princess or a prince! Mabee I tan make u a picture to say thanks! I'm gettin kinda small reel fast so I all done now!
Bye bye mama!
-🫧🪸
Hello my dear friend
Feeling alone is a really scary thing when you're dealing with mental health issues, that's not something you should face on your own..I know what you mean about being scared to be pitied or ignored or just redirected elsewhere, sometimes all you need is someone to just sit there and listen to what you're going through to feel less alone. Getting help can be a hard thing, but I'm really proud of you for realizing that's something you need- sometimes just acknowledging that can be tricky so it really means a lot. Anxiety can sometimes isolate us, that's very true, but what matters is still reaching out to someone regardless of those anxieties and getting that support we need! You deserve to have that community and care, even if it can be hard making the first step 💙
You have absolutely no reason to be sorry. I'm really proud of you for reaching out, you're doing exactly what you said you were scared of and that's amazing! I know you're not going into detail but just letting someone know something isn't right means the world. Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm grinning as I write this hehe, I like the picture of a royal shark! Everyone deserves to be listened to whether they're at their worst or their best or anywhere in between, support shouldn't be limited to only one of those! I would absolutely love to see your art if you ever wanna share!!
Sending huge hugs, you are not going through this alone. You deserve love and support, you're not a burden for reaching out to those who care about you! I hope you can find the time to give yourself the space you need to breathe and be small, you deserve it 💙
