From a very young age, I struggled with anxiety and fear of a lot of things. I was molested repeatedly from age 4 to 14 years old and that left me fearful that anyone would find out what was happening as he had emphasized that it was a big secret and that I would get into trouble if it was revealed.
After my son, Matthew, died I was alone for about 8 months in my house far from family. When I finally sold my house and was able to return to the larger community, I experienced extreme social anxiety that prevented me from leaving the house to do the simplest errands. I couldn’t go to Church and when I went to see my doctor I almost had a panic attack, which I’ve had many of before. Prior to this, I’d always been an extrovert, despite, or maybe because of my circumstances.
It took months of new medications and constant encouragement from family and friends to help me overcome this. Thankfully, it’s all past me now and I’ve become more self-assured. If you ever meet someone who experiences panic attacks and you think they’re not that bad, please think again. They are much worse than a heart attack, which I have had two of. Be ever so kind and suggest that they place their hands or face in very cold water. That might stop it in its tracks.
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