I don't remember the first time I had an anxiety attack.

I have a vivid memory of driving on the Northway. I was late for a cross country meet. The last meet I would ever run of my high school career, and I was going to miss it. My boyfriend watched helplessly from the passenger seat as I cried and gasped for air, all while gripping the steering wheel as I frantically weaved through traffic.

And while that may be a bad example of what it's like to deal with anxiety on a daily basis, it's the one that sticks out to me. Usually, my anxiety isn't just triggered by events like that. It's the minuscule, everyday stresses that really set me off. Oftentimes, it's nothing at all.

Living with anxiety is constantly looking over your shoulder, because you always have a sneaking suspicion that something is wrong.

It's reading way too much into each social situation, and always assuming someone hates you or is out to get you.

It's having to mentally prepare yourself for the smallest of tasks, like introducing yourself or speaking up in class.

It's working yourself up so much that you become physically ill.

It's not being able to sleep at night because your brain is at war with itself.

It's going from being perfectly happy one moment to having your entire world come crashing down around you the next.

It's like getting all of the air sucked of your body.

My moods will go from a manic high to a depressive low in an instant. I could be lying in bed, or out with friends, and it just hits me. It makes me withdraw into myself; pull away from my friends and family. And I hate myself, because I just want to be comforted, but human contact is just exhausting. Explaining my emotions seems impossible, and it feels like they just don't understand.

And most times they don't. They say I'm overreacting, or that I need to stop overthinking things, or that I just need to calm down. But it's not that simple.

Anxiety doesn't listen to reason. It doesn't just stop because it's an inconvenience. It just makes it worse when someone tells me that I'm being ridiculous.

I wish people would understand that I can't control these feelings. I cannot control the helplessness and the emptiness that comes after the panic. I can't help crying, or lashing out, or hiding under the covers. I can't stop the depression.

Above all, I wish people wouldn't take my illness personally. They get angry or frustrated when I am convinced people are out to get me, or think the world is falling down around me. I can't stop my feelings, as much as I want to.

All I ask is that you weather the storm alongside me.

If you know someone living with anxiety, let them know that you love them and that you are trying to understand the battle they are fighting. Oftentimes, just having someone to talk to is enough to get us through the day. Understand that each person has a different form of anxiety, and they cope in their own unique ways.

When your mind is battling itself, it's comforting to know that someone is on your side.