Panic Disorder is when a person experiences "panic/anxiety attacks" or brief periods of feeling impending doom followed by the following symptoms: pounding heartbeat, increased sweating, hyperventilation, numbness in the hands and legs, nausea, chills, shaking, fear of dying, the list goes on and on. The "disorder" is an intense fear that these attacks will happen anytime, anywhere. People with this disorder (like myself) do anything they can to avoid panic attacks: from changing their daily habits to avoiding normal, everyday situations. This is when it becomes a serious problem. Ten percent of America's population experiences anxiety in one way or another. Whether it be Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Panic Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Phobias, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and/or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). There are plenty more, but these are the most common. The upsetting thing is that only one third of these disorders are diagnosed. Commonly, people don't know what is happening to them. They hide and ignore it. This wasn't an option for me.

I realize all of my articles thus far have been entirely personal experiences. This is because I write to connect with others. I want my experiences to relate to those who are reading: their kids, their grandkids, their mom, their neighbor, their dog, etc... This is what fuels my passions. Even with my degrees on their way, I want to learn how nutrition affects the body and how I can cook to help those who turn a cold eye toward nutritious meals. But this is the hardest struggle I've had to overcome, excuse me, that I am overcoming.. and I know there are others out there, probably closer than I even know, that are struggling with the same condition.

When I was a sophomore at Keene, finally settled in and happy with my dorm, classes and friends, I was drinking a lot. Especially the night before Pumpkinfest began (RIP). My friends and I had way too much to drink and we all woke up with head crushing hangovers. Now I was never one for marijuana, but my friends were quite the pot heads. I had no problem with it, being around weed didn't bother me, and every now and then I would take a hit or two. So this specific morning when I felt death upon me and all sounds were ear shattering, my friends promised that weed would melt away my headache. We went on a 'burn cruise' if you will, and after my first hit of the blunt I experienced something I had never felt before. I can still remember it as if it happened yesterday. My throat felt like it was closing, I couldn't pick my head up or move my mouth, It was as if my face was paralyzed. This lead to me not feeling able to breath, I began hyperventilating, I couldn't feel my legs or arms, my brain couldn't focus on anything other than "I am dying". Now I declared this as a bad high. After scaring the shit out of my friends, I felt better after an hour or so. Yet still a little weird. Pumpkinfest came and went and I still had this uneasy feeling in my stomach the whole time, something from that bad high left me different.

Knowing what I know now, I had experienced my first panic attack. The weed made me anxious because it made me feel out of control of my body (I hate being out of control of anything). In turn, my heart rate increased, I hyperventilated, oxygen wasn't getting to my limbs which is what left them numb, yada yada. I know this now, I know this 3 years later. The next few weeks, I was experiencing similar feelings. I felt like I couldn't breathe and going to class made me anxious. Going to the dining hall made me anxious. Being anywhere near weed made me anxious. Because I didn't want to EVER feel that way again. I reluctantly finished my fall semester at Keene and unfortunately left in a hurry, not even ever saying goodbye to my friends. It was the fear that made me flee so fast, and I still regret the way I left things. I haven't seen them since, and I probably never will again. Because they didn't understand why I left and why I didn't come back. How could they? I didn't even understand what was happening.

Now because this panic attack happened in a car, I convinced myself that driving is what caused them. When my dad came to get me for winter break, I had a huge panic attack in the car, it lasted long because I didn't yet know how to control my breathing and bring myself down. During the first few weeks I was back home I wouldn't leave my house, and over the next year I didn't even leave Newmarket. I have only worked locally ever since these attacks because I'm too nervous to be too far from home. I also stopped drinking for 2 years, convincing myself that alcohol could cause a panic attack as well, and I haven't TOUCHED marijuana since that morning (and never will again). That was pretty much the worst of it. Confined to my town, I struggled everyday with the fear of having another attack. Overtime, I got more confident. Maybe it was the antidepressants finally working, or maybe it was my determination to finally feel like me again. I'd like to think it's the second. After driving to bordering towns, I got more daring, and believe it or not, I got back to normal. Sure, it took me two years, but I was going out with my friends again, I was DRINKING again! I even went back to school. Things that two years prior, I thought were hopeless for my future. Unfortunately, this isn't where the story ends.

Seemingly out of nowhere, I had a panic attack for the first time in two years a few months ago. This completely shook me up again, almost landing me back to square one. It was incredibly depressing and it affected everything: my relationship, my work, my friendships. I couldn't believe it was happening again. But I have something different this time, I have experience in how to deal with it. I have an amazing boyfriend who is so understanding and caring that I don't know how I'd get through it without him. And controversially, I have pills that help ease my mind. Let's get something straight: Xanax has an awful reputation. Due to assholes who use it recreationally. Those of us who need it, really need it. And so I have this pill that eases my mind, lets me do things I might be afraid to do, and I went to therapy this time around for a few weeks. And these things that I was afraid to try the first time around have really helped me. I'm not entirely back to normal yet, but I'm confident in time I will be. I owe most of this to an incredible support system.

I thank my friends and family who stand by me to this day, the ones who understand that this isn't something I can just get over. They listen, and they know that I need time. Patience is certainly nothing short of a virtue. Some have it, and some don't. But I thank God that I have a significant amount of those who do in my life every day.

If you're feeling weird, anxious or experiencing symptoms like I've described, you are not going crazy and you are not alone. These conditions are entirely treatable and you just have to have the right mind power to overcome them. Please see a doctor and please reach out to those you are close with. You don't have to be alone.

When I say Panic Disorder changed my life, I don't mean for the worst. If I hadn't left Keene, I never would have began working at Panzanella's, where I've met some pretty great friends. I also met my boyfriend because of Panzanella's, whom I am madly in love with and can't imagine my life without. This has left me stronger. Stronger and wiser. I am a better person because of what I have had to undergo. I understand people with mental illness on a level I never imagined I would. This also kick started my passion for nutrition and exercise because I learned that these are two key things to decreasing the amount of anxiety in your life. And so, yes my condition is a burden. But it is a burden that has led me to passions and love, and if that's what I had to go through to get to where I am today, then I'm okay with that.