“Worrying does not take away tomorrows troubles, it takes away todays peace.” (Randy Armstrong) Worry is an epidemic that haunts my mind, clouds my thoughts, keeps me awake at night. Not unlike Hester Prynne I too would have been labeled with the letter: A. however unlike The Scarlet Letter’s main character it does not stand for Adultery, it stands for anxiety, a state of mind that causes me to worry about the silliest things. I was never diagnosed for any specific anxiety disorder, I’m not OCD, although I can have OCD tendencies, I don’t have PTSD, and I’ve never had to see any doctors or therapists about my issues. Although we have talked about it, we assume that I have General Anxiety Disorder (GAD) with a dash of social phobia in the mix and some depression. Obviously it isn’t bad enough to warrant medication or therapy, though I have been asked several times by my doctor if I want to talk to a therapist, but I honestly don’t think it’s bad enough to bother with someone telling me what I
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I remember going to sleep and next thing I know I wake up feeling like I couldn’t breathe and curled up on my side on the floor. Luckily I shared a room with my sister and she would run to get my parents. Honestly I still don’t know what triggered those attacks. Maybe I had a nightmare, I was 4-6 years old, maybe it was just your typical nocturnal panic attack apparently that is a thing. Waking up to a panic attack for no apparent reason. While the latter is more likely the case I’m still not entirely sure, there is one thing I’m sure of though is that these memories are the blight of my childhood. Over the years my panic attacks calmed down, although I do remember having a few at my elementary school now that I think about it. The kids called me a crybaby and made fun of me out at recess… even those that were supposed to be my friends. I guess now I know my source of my social
I remember going to sleep and next thing I know I wake up feeling like I couldn’t breathe and curled up on my side on the floor. Luckily I shared a room with my sister and she would run to get my parents. Honestly I still don’t know what triggered those attacks. Maybe I had a nightmare, I was 4-6 years old, maybe it was just your typical nocturnal panic attack apparently that is a thing. Waking up to a panic attack for no apparent reason. While the latter is more likely the case I’m still not entirely sure, there is one thing I’m sure of though is that these memories are the blight of my childhood. Over the years my panic attacks calmed down, although I do remember having a few at my elementary school now that I think about it. The kids called me a crybaby and made fun of me out at recess… even those that were supposed to be my friends. I guess now I know my source of my social