Suddenly, a face comes into focus. I must be dreaming, I think. But he is there, right in front of me, beaming.
“Chao Fan!” the familiar voice exclaims.
“Andrew!” I respond, voice shaken with relief. He guides me to a nearby table, and I sit down, vision still blurry but slowly easing into focus.
The stall owner says gruffly, but not unkindly, “Your friend didn’t bring his wallet, you pay?”
Andrew nods. “Can I have another plate too? How much?”
“Each five dollars. Dabao?”
“No, having here.”
Andrew draws out a note from his wallet and passes it to the stall owner, who grunts in acknowledgment, turning back to his wok. Andrew sits next to me, “Hey, how are you feeling now?”
I take a shuddering breath. My heartbeat still thrums through me, though it’s slowed down, now that the immediate stressor has been resolved. I feel the tightness in my chest ease. It’s not fully dissipated, but it feels as though most of the pressure is gone.
“Better,” I say, offering a tentative smile. “Thank you, I’ll pay you back later. Why’re you here?”
“We were supposed to meet up, remember?” Andrew says. “Oh,” I say blankly, the memory of the frantic text I had sent earlier reappearing in my brain. “Right.”
He grins at me, rolling his eyes in mock-exasperation. “You always forget.”
“Luckily I have you,” I respond, doing a mock bow.
Even though I seem like I’m joking, I know that every word I say is true.
“So, are you okay now?” Andrew asks. “I guess I’m feeling better now,” I respond. “You know, I read about this on Googol, and I think it’s called Agoraphobia.” He then starts relaying some information regarding the phobia.
Soon, the stall assistant comes over, bearing two plates of fried rice and soup on the side. “We didn’t order soup,” Andrew says. The assistant grins, “Boss says to give you.” Then he is gone, weaving through the crowd effortlessly to get back to the stall.
Andrew glances at his food, and when he looks up, he flashes me his signature grin. “Hey, do you know what to call a scared egg?”
“Terri-fried!”
I groan. “That is so bad.”
“It’s so good, right?”
“No, it’s bad.”
“Nah, that was eggcellent, admit it.”
I don’t want to, but it’s pretty funny, and after some more questionable puns, Andrew has me doubling up in laughter. My shoulders are drawn in, not to minimise myself this time, but in expression of my genuine enjoyment and laughter.
“You know, you’d have made a great Peer Helper,” I comment.
He smiles. “Nah, I’m just doing what any friend should.”
We continue chatting until the plates of rice are polished clean, and the soup bowls empty.
As we walk out of the hawker centre, Andrew asks, “Hey, are you going home? Do you want me to come with you?”
I nod, gratitude welling up inside me. “Yes, thank you.”
We walk back, along a familiar road with a familiar face, but this time the thump thump thump of my heart is not a panic signal but the steady assurance that I’ve managed to get through this, and that I’m still alive.
Anyone can be a Peer Helper. In fact, everyone should! Just by being there for your friends or people around you makes you a (literal) peer helper.
You never know how a small action you do can impact others. Sometimes, what we do may seem negligible, but it might mean a lot for someone else. So don’t discount your actions, or don’t do things, just because you think it doesn’t mean much.
Anxiety disorders are real. While agoraphobia is one type of anxiety disorder, there are others, such as Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD), social anxiety disorder and selective mutism. They should never be dismissed or put down as merely someone just “overreacting” or “just being shy”. Anxiety disorders are mental disorders as classified by the DSM-5. There is also no need to overreact to someone experiencing a panic attack or anxiety, but simply be there, and be compassionate, when supporting them.
Thank you very much for joining us in this journey! To read more about anxiety disorders, you can check out our Resources page!
THE END!