Before I realized what I was doing, I was flying out my seat sending it skidding across the tile floor behind me. I had been trying to swallow my lunch around the growing lump in my throat when it started to feel like it was closing up. The sudden feeling of suffocation sent my heart banging against the inside of my chest. Aware that I was acting weird, standing there with my plastic fork in my hand breathing hard, I was grateful that all the other students in my college class had gone out for lunch. There was no one around to witness my behavior.
Not knowing what to do, I just stood there staring at the empty room around me. Even though I had had them sporadically throughout the years, including my childhood, I still did not understand panic attacks well enough to walk myself through one. Not knowing if it was going to get better or worse, I did not know what to do. It had been years since my last panic attack.
Another spike of fear washed over me as I tried to swallow again and found my throat was nearly paralyzed. That was it. After grabbing my phone, I tried hard not to run as I exited the classroom door and flew down the long hall to the double doors that led outside to the breezeway.
My heart was beating even faster than causing my breathing to speed up. I spun around outside in the fresh air trying to grasp my mind as it went into a tailspin. There were some people standing outside and in an effort not to draw attention to my odd behavior, I flipped my phone open and tried to look busy staring at the screen.
My urge was to run to Alex's classroom. He was at the other end of the campus in another building. I imagined barging into his class and embarrassing him. Well, not really embarrassing him. I'd be embarrassing myself. Alex wouldn't have cared. But I felt pathetic at the thought.
I thought about calling him but that seemed pathetic too. So I just stood there staring at my phone for the longest time.
Finally after several attempts at getting some deeper and longer breaths, just the thought that Alex was nearby was enough to make myself go back inside to my classroom and sit down. My lunch went straight into the trashcan though.
At the time, I did not know that this was one of the few mild warnings I would get before the damn broke on my anxiety. I felt it. I felt something was not right with me, but I had no idea how to put it into words when I did not have a clue what was wrong.
I was afraid to even admit it to Alex. Eventually, the fear started towing the line into phobia, driving a car triggering me worst of all. With college being a 45-minute drive from my home, I felt on the verge of a mental breakdown every day. Finally, I broke down and told Alex I was afraid to drive myself to school, blaming it in on a fear of driving on the interstate, but that was only half the truth. I never felt judged by Alex, but I hated to think there was a possibility he would see me as I saw myself, pathetic. But even though our schedules were different, and it made Alex's life more difficult, he did not complain about my riding to and from school with him every day.
Not knowing what to do, I just stood there staring at the empty room around me. Even though I had had them sporadically throughout the years, including my childhood, I still did not understand panic attacks well enough to walk myself through one. Not knowing if it was going to get better or worse, I did not know what to do. It had been years since my last panic attack.
Another spike of fear washed over me as I tried to swallow again and found my throat was nearly paralyzed. That was it. After grabbing my phone, I tried hard not to run as I exited the classroom door and flew down the long hall to the double doors that led outside to the breezeway.
My heart was beating even faster than causing my breathing to speed up. I spun around outside in the fresh air trying to grasp my mind as it went into a tailspin. There were some people standing outside and in an effort not to draw attention to my odd behavior, I flipped my phone open and tried to look busy staring at the screen.
My urge was to run to Alex's classroom. He was at the other end of the campus in another building. I imagined barging into his class and embarrassing him. Well, not really embarrassing him. I'd be embarrassing myself. Alex wouldn't have cared. But I felt pathetic at the thought.
I thought about calling him but that seemed pathetic too. So I just stood there staring at my phone for the longest time.
Finally after several attempts at getting some deeper and longer breaths, just the thought that Alex was nearby was enough to make myself go back inside to my classroom and sit down. My lunch went straight into the trashcan though.
At the time, I did not know that this was one of the few mild warnings I would get before the damn broke on my anxiety. I felt it. I felt something was not right with me, but I had no idea how to put it into words when I did not have a clue what was wrong.
I was afraid to even admit it to Alex. Eventually, the fear started towing the line into phobia, driving a car triggering me worst of all. With college being a 45-minute drive from my home, I felt on the verge of a mental breakdown every day. Finally, I broke down and told Alex I was afraid to drive myself to school, blaming it in on a fear of driving on the interstate, but that was only half the truth. I never felt judged by Alex, but I hated to think there was a possibility he would see me as I saw myself, pathetic. But even though our schedules were different, and it made Alex's life more difficult, he did not complain about my riding to and from school with him every day.
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