It has never been easy. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t worry about having an anxiety attack. It isn’t something you can help. It isn’t something you can stop. You just deal with it. Let it run its course, and then move on.

When I was a little girl, I was scared of the same typical things as any other kid. But then I was scared of random things, like the ocean, the machines at Home Depot, loud sounds, etc. and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was scared to be left alone, I was never independent because I couldn’t be. I would always hide away, freak out or become extremely quiet. My parents always thought that it was just a phase and that eventually, I wouldn’t panic so much. Unfortunately, over the years it has yet to subside, and in some ways, it is worsening.

I have always wanted to be able to avoid my anxiety and avoid the panicking, but I have come to learn that doing so is nearly impossible. It happens when it wants to. I have no control over it. My brain will start to run over a million different possibilities, situations and outcomes. I will begin to realize all the bad things that can happen in my life. My fears seem to be too close to reality, and my mind makes me feel as though I can’t get away from them. It feels like a disaster is occurring, as though I am experiencing a trauma. It is a rush of emotions that become so overwhelming that I can’t do anything but break down, fall to pieces. Sometimes it is a feeling of sadness, other times I feel overly worried and on the very rare occasion it is an overwhelming, powerful feeling of death. Inevitable death. It is the most terrifying feeling in the world. Feeling as though you are about to die and can do nothing to stop it. The hardest part of all, aside from the overwhelming feelings, is the feeling of being helpless.

Many times I have had a panic attack in public, and people who don’t know just look at me like I'm a freak. People don’t know how to handle it. They don’t know what to do. Sometimes it is best to deal with it alone, whereas other times I need someone to sit at my side and tell me it is going to be alright. It feels as though I am fighting to survive through the pain, the panic, the overwhelming emotion. It feels as though I no longer have control over my emotions, my mind, my life. When those around me suddenly no longer see me as just another normal person and now someone who has a whole new perspective of me. Some look at me and feel sorry, others look at me as a child or a freak and some feel my pain.

I am one of approximately 40 million Americans, 18 years of age or older, that suffer from a panic disorder. I suffer from the most common mental illness in this country. People often believe it is easy to get through an attack but little do they know just how painful and exhausting it is.

You find your ways to cope whether it be through music, art, dancing or writing. For me, it is a multitude of things, but other than music, my way to cope is through writing. I write out my feelings and situations. Sometimes they become stories, and other times they become journals for only my eyes to see. They help me get through the pain, they help me grasp reality. They help me realize that I am more than my anxiety, I am a human, I am me, and that even with anxiety, I am still proud of who I am. It is simply a flaw that is a part of me and nothing more.