In high school, I had a relatively average life. Besides typical teen angst and your average high school heartbreak, I didn't experience depression or anxiety like some of my friends or family did. Being a very closed off person, it's an extremely rare occasion for me to open up about any of the thoughts that occur to me daily. When I came to college I didn't know my body was about to go into overload with the craziness of living on my own, paying (most) of my bills alone, being a full-time student and being in a sorority.

I experienced my first anxiety attack as a sophomore in college and when I heard about what people went through during them I genuinely thought they could talk themselves out of it or that they were just doing it to themselves... until I experienced it first hand.

People describe an anxiety attack as floating in the ocean and you can't keep afloat. It's like you're drowning, but every time you catch your breath, you get pushed under again.

For me, it wasn't like that.

For me, it was the first beautiful day where it finally felt like fall, my favorite season, and you could see the leaves changing colors, the sun was shining bright and the breeze was just right. A Friday around noon, I was laying in my bed preparing for the night ahead and my mind went into an extreme state of panic.

It hit me at a time when I was completely alone and not in a situation where I was maybe meeting new people or in a dark crowded room, no I had complete control of the entire setting. I didn't know how to catch my breath and I started sweating bullets. My hands started shaking as I went to call my sister and ask for help, but I realized who can really help you get out of a mental situation that you brought onto yourself?

The next day when I woke up, if I slightly thought about the day before, I immediately couldn't catch my breath and had to breathe deeply. I did something no one should ever do and got extremely pissed off at myself for letting my mind get to this vulnerable state. How could I literally go through so much mentally and the only person to blame is me? That doesn't make any sense. Now, ask a person who's steadily dealt with anxiety and they'll tell you that you can't control when or how it happens but that you can't blame yourself but oh did I.

I'm still trying to figure out how to cope with things I'm mentally not prepared for... but if I said not being prepared for things isn't the story of my life, I would be lying.

For the person who also doesn't understand why they're randomly sad or smiling the entire day, you're not alone in the fight. People handle stress in different ways and I'll be damned if I let anxiety become me. Amiright?