A friend is best found in adversity.

Since my school had shut down for COVID-19, I was expected to study at home. Unfortunately, I had little motivation to do any schoolwork. Whenever I sat down, my mind would wander off to other things. I had no focus but the final exams were coming up.

How could I possibly get myself prepared in one week? My hands started trembling and it was hard to breathe. My heart was pounding and tears were rolling down my face. My head felt heavier and heavier, dragging my body down to the ground as I started swaying back and forth and then plummeted(坠落) towards the floor. I couldn’t see and I felt like I was slipping in and out of consciousness.

When I came to myself, I got up, took some medicine and never told anyone. I knew exactly what had happened—I had just had a panic attack. I’d battled anxiety since I was twelve, and, because of the increasing isolation due to COVID-19, my symptoms were worsening. I had experienced panic attacks before, though never as extreme as this one.

I convinced myself that if I just got some rest, things would be better in the morning. The new term was approaching and it stimulated my social anxiety. I wasn’t ready to step into a room full of people who I didn’t know. The first day of in-person class wasn’t any better, as my heart pounded every time I spoke. Every day was a new day for anxiety to have a bad effect on my physical and mental health.

I remembered when the first real panic attack struck me, I ran to the bathroom and isolated myself in a stall(小隔间) for the whole period without anyone helping me. Although I powered through it, I still felt so lonely. I even got to the point where I had to stay home from school for a week so that I felt I could focus more. However, when Monday came again, I had to go back.

The first hour or so back at school was okay, I had to come up with excuses to explain my absence and re-assess any missing work I had. But then a hurricane of anxiety came crashing into me, destroying any hope of having a good day. I ran through the bustling(熙熙攘攘的) halls to the bathroom and closed myself into the last stall, hoping this attack would pass quickly.

But this time something was different; this time I wasn’t alone.

Seeing Morgan, I forced a smile.

One night, after reading one of the hundreds of parenting books I’ve read, I was feeling a little guilty because the book had described some parenting strategies I hadn’t used in a while. The main strategy was to talk with your child and use those three magic words: ”I love you.“ It had stressed over and over that children need to know that unconditionally you really love them.

I went upstairs to my son’s bedroom and knocked on the door. As l knocked, all I could hear were his drums. I knew he was there but he wasn’t answering. So I opened the door and, sure enough, there he was sitting with his earphones on, listening to a tape and playing his drums. After I leaned over to get his attention, I said to him, “Tim, have you got a second? ”

He said, “Oh sure, Dad. I’m always good for one.” We then sat down and after about 15 minutes and a lot of small talk, I just looked at him and said, “Tim, I really love the way you play drums.”

He said, ”Oh, thanks, Dad, I appreciate it.“

I walked out of the door and said, ”See you later! "As I was walking downstairs, it occurred to me that I went up there with a certain message and had not delivered it. I felt it was really important to get back up there and have another chance to say those three magic words.