I am in first grade and it’s lunch time. A second grader is standing in front of me in line awaiting our food. She is a hefty girl whose plaid uniform skirt would topple over me as a long dress. Her hair is unkempt and even though she is only 10 years old, she reeks of horrible body odor. Her old, torn up dress shoes match her messy personality quite well. I cannot stop thinking how disgusting she is until she barfs all over the cafeteria floor. Way to go. Kids starting screaming and pointing towards the crime scene as she runs up to the nurses office. I looked down at her breakfast while my heart started skipping beats, my mind raced as fast as my cardiovascular system was working, and fear crept through my soul at an uncomfortable speed.

Later that night, after dinner with my family, I recalled my experience at lunch. I had never witnessed anything so disturbing in my life nor felt that reaction from any prior experience. I suddenly grew extremely nauseous and, before I knew it, I was hunched over the toilet dry heaving with the same feelings as I had earlier. My heart and mind were racing too fast to know what my body was feeling. I started crying and slept in the comfort and familiarity of my parents bed for the rest of the night.

The next day, I refused to go to school. What if I got sick like that girl did? Do only ugly people get sick in public? Would that make me ugly if I barfed at school? My young, delusional brain did not know what to think. Hoping that it was just a phase, my mother let me continue to dry heave each night for the next couple weeks. I cried every morning before school, horrified that I would get sick in front of everyone and become an ugly, fat lard.

I guess that's how it all started. Ever since that day, I have had to deal with annoying thoughts creeping up on me and constantly worrying about terrible things that could happen in any situation I am in. Anxiety took over my life, stole my positive thoughts and ripped them up like paper, tossed them out the window, and threw the most insane negative thoughts in to replace the good ones.

Fast forward 10 years. After countless therapists, hundreds of anxiety attacks, and dozens of experiences ruined by my monster of a thought process, I have learned to accept the fact that it will always be a part of me. I now have prepared tactics to help calm me down and I am no longer such an anxious mess. My anxiety has become like a crazy ex-boyfriend: I know I can't get rid of it, but I accept that it's there and face it when I have to, but move on and bounce back as quick as I can. As I grow older and mature more and more each year, I have found it to be easier to live with such an annoying disorder.

I guess the reason I am writing this is to just share my unique story with the rest of the world. Anxiety has become more and more prevalent in more recent generations, and it is so nice to know that you are not alone, trust me. Do not let anxiety control your life. Take control of it yourself and remember that when you feel like you've hit rock bottom, things can only get better from there.