Dear Anxiety,

You have been in my life for a really long time. When you first appeared I didn't even know what you were. You started bugging me with palpitations and made me question if I was even breathing. My parents were forced to ask me to "stop being so dramatic". They didn't know what you were either. After high school ended I finally felt better and I thought you were gone for good.

August 12, 2013...I remember that day perfectly. I went to the city to meet Alexander Deleon from one of my favorite bands The Cab. When I got off the train I realized my allergies were acting up so I went with my dad to the local Rite-Aid. We thought we picked up my regular medicine but we actually picked up something with a lot more strength by accident. The cashier thought the medicine was for my dad and didn't question it. I went home and realized the medicine was much larger but also didn't question it. A half an hour later, I was filled with the worst symptoms of you. It was by far the worst experience I had ever felt. When the ambulance came they told me that I took allergy meds almost six times my weight. My heart was pounding, my body felt cold, I couldn't stop shaking and my heartbeat did not go back to normal for two hours. The doctors were so sure I was going to have a heart attack at the age of 19 because of you.

Days and months after, I couldn't even complete normal tasks. I would get up during class because I felt like I couldn't breathe. Suddenly public transportation seemed like the worst thing in the world. Tears would fill my eyes every time I even stepped on the bus. I constantly went to the doctor thinking something was wrong and I lost twenty pounds. My dad actually had to call my job once because of my anxiety attacks. Then, when I returned my coworkers acted like I had been cured of a disease.

Fast forward three years later and I am at a conference at the Javits Center. I went with my classmates and friends to some of the panels. My mood seemed to never be better and it was surprising but I didn't question it. Then when I was in line to get food, my heart started pounding out of my chest. At this point in my life, there were many tips I used to relieve you. None of them worked. I walked over to a security guard and told him that I couldn't breathe. They had to call the EMTs and they brought me somewhere in the back. I told them to call my friend Craig because I trusted him. They told me to calm down and start breathing regularly. It took me an hour just to get my heartbeat back to normal. I just remember crying and telling myself to breathe in and breathe out. Even though my friend and EMTs were standing right there, I felt so alone. I was then told I was "just dehydrated" because no one wants to say I had a panic attack.

That's the thing, there's this huge stigma surrounding your anxiety. If someone breaks their leg they are allowed to feel in pain.

However, if someone has a mental illness they are seen as weak or dramatic.

I am breathing, I look fine on the outside but on the inside, I feel like I'm stuck under water.

I hate you. I hate that I can't just go to an interview normally or on a date. It kills me every time someone glorifies you. You are not cute, anxiety. I hate that I get angry every time someone says they have anxiety when they are just nervous. I have to overthink every little aspect of my life because of you. I'd like to say thank you but I can't even stomach it. If you were a person I'd punch you in the face. You constantly tell me I'm not good enough at what I love and for who I love. You don't know how much I wish I could just go back and somehow not be introduced to you. I never want another person to feel like I feel with you.

You are not gone but you have gotten better over the years because I've learned to control you. Sure, I have my triggers and my bad days, but I will never let you overcome me.