Panic attacks

I've been having panic attacks my entire life. I know this to be true, not because I have known my entire life that my episodes are panic attacks but, because counseling has helped me accept and identify that I have an anxiety disorder. I can remember sever times in my childhood where a panic attack occurred, when I fled the room our of embarrassment, etc etc.

These episodes never become normative. They happen for ridiculous reasons (forgetting my credit card at home, breaking a rule at my best friend's house, watching my dad mow the lawn, losing weight) and often result in pretty extreme fatigue. For the first time in my life I can acknowledge what they are, but I still absolutely hate them.

I had a panic attack yesterday, that's why I'm writing this. Actually, yesterday isn't super accurate. This time, my panic attack started two days ago, lasted through the night and ended sometime yesterday evening. It was scary. I couldn't eat, I managed to sleep but I woke up exhausted by muscles tension, I was afraid of everyone, and all I wanted to do was just curl up in a ball and cry.

Eventually I did. And I did that for close to three hours. It was cathartic, and somewhat comforting, but it was hard. 

It was hard to realize that even after a year of counseling and cognitive behavioral therapy these episodes would still happen and still be somewhat uncontrollable. It was was hard to realize that panic attacks can happen anywhere, even on trips with classmates and best friends. It was hard to realize that I was about to be alone for seven weeks and: whatifoneofthesehappensinbethlehemandiamallaloneanditisshamefultocryandidontwanttoseemweakand...

I think you probably understand.

What was hardest about all of this though, is that it wasn't the last time. Posting a blog about my anxiety and panic attacks isn't a cause of celebration of being cured, but a step at becoming more honest and transparent about what it can be like to be myself sometimes. I do a really good job at letting people know the good things, the exciting things, and the impressive things. I usually try to hide the nitty-gritty of this. I don't like being honest about how sever my panic attacks are. I don't like telling people the depths of my anxiety. I don't like being asked questions. I don't like being pittied. 

But I'm starting to realize that I can't do this all by myself, and so maybe a first step is learning to share with everyone that these things happen, that they're hard, and that I'm learning to live with it in an honest way.

Two days ago, I had a panic attack which has left me in bed all day today. There. Honesty.