All of the oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room. No matter how much I try to breathe in, I feel as though I can never get enough air to fill my lungs. My mind begins to fog, and all I can focus on is the invisible hands wrapped around my chest. As my legs become weak and my hands tremble, I notice my heart is pumping faster than I can keep up with. I carry with me a yellow-orange bottle, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Although the contents of this bottle are tiny enough to fit on the tip of my pinky finger, they allow me to think, breathe, and live. I take my anxiety medication three times a day, every day of my life. 

Anxiety seems to follow me everywhere I go. Anxiety, to me, is like a stalker; occasionally it will present itself, and it feels like there is nothing I can do. Even though I can’t directly see it, I can always feel its presence. One chilly Sunday night, anxiety had crept into my thoughts as I tried to finish my homework for the next morning. I sat in my dimly lit bedroom and listened to the pitter patter of the rain landing on the roof as I got out my homework.  The longer I stared at the blank Google document on my laptop screen, the more heat I had begun to feel on my face. It was already eleven o’clock and my assignments were due at eleven fifty-nine. I didn’t know how I was going to get everything done before morning, including leaving time to rest. I felt the emotions quickly escalating, and there was no turning back. Hot puddles began to form in my eyes and my chest began to tighten. My heart beat sped up as if it was going to leap out of my body at any moment. As the symptoms sped up, I began to sob louder over the idea that my body was going to give out. I reached for my phone hoping someone would be able to pull me out of this panic attack. 

I unlocked my phone to text my mother for help and my camera popped up. I almost looked unrecognizable. My dark hair no longer sat framing my face but instead it was sprawled out on my pillow mixed with tears and snot. I noticed my eyes appear more gray than the usual blue and my dark circles seemed to get worse every time I’d glance over at them. I pick at the acne on my face knowing they will turn to scabs. I scratch at the scabs on my face in hopes of any sort of stress relief. I closed the camera app quickly, panicking even more than before, and texted my mom for comfort knowing she would understand. 

When I begin to feel anxious, I make sure I have taken my medicine for that time of day. Most of the time, the yellow-orange bottle with the tiny rectangular pills, along with learned coping mechanisms, help calm me down before I end up falling too deep into a panicking state. A simple task, such as eating in front of other people, could escalate my anxiety into an anxiety attack very quickly. It can spiral so quickly that, sometimes, I’d find myself having an anxiety attack before I realized it. It was easy for me to get worked up over things that, to me now, don’t have much of an effect. I have a family that understands how I feel, so having their support has motivated me to continue trying and truly recognize the accomplishments I’ve made. 

It took me a while to build up the courage to ask for help, but it was the best decision I have ever made. I used to panic at the thought of speaking publicly or to anyone unknown, and although I do not exactly look forward to it all of the time, I am significantly more comfortable doing it now than I ever could imagine before. I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder (characterized by constant anxiety) and social anxiety disorder (causing irrational anxiety in social interactions) soon after that night. It took me months to find an anxiety medication that works for me. Although medication has played a big role in helping my anxiety, it took a combination of things to get to where I am. Today, I continue to learn more ways to manage my anxiety. I still have bad days, but they aren’t as frequent and they are much easier to control. Everyday is a step towards inner peace.