This account of one young woman’s experience with panic and anxiety was published in the Huffington Post, and we thought it was worth sharing. Here’s an excerpt, and you can click the link below for the full article. If you’re in the greater Cleveland area, and you recognize yourself or someone you love in her account, remember that we’re here.
I was preparing for my English mid-term as a junior in high school. The teacher had just placed the exam on my desk, I went to start writing my name, when suddenly I went numb. I felt paralyzed. I was sweating profusely, I started to tremble and shiver uncontrollably, my face turned red, I felt light-headed, and I ending up slipping out of my desk down to the floor. I was still conscious, but I couldn’t make words. The students evacuated the classroom and the nurse was rushed into the room. After a few minutes (that felt like an eternity) I was able to catch my breath and come down from the panic attack. I was referred to a psychiatrist, and that’s when I had the realization that this was real, depression and anxiety were trying to take over my life.
I became determined to seek out a correct diagnoses and do whatever it took to get better. After numerous sessions, it was determined that the root of my anxiety and depression stemmed from monophobia, the fear of being alone and other stressors. I was officially diagnosed in 2009 with a panic disorder.
I was scared to receive the diagnosis. I was humiliated. People don’t take mental illness seriously. But at the same time, I was relieved, because there was something I could do to fix it. With mental illness, our black and blues are on the inside. I think that’s why people don’t see it. If you see someone with a broken leg, you know that there’s something wrong with them. All my life I feel like my struggles were kind of brushed under the rug because, well, “You look fine, so go back to work.”