Looking back I see the signs. Shortness of breathe and bursting out into tears for absolutely no reason. I didn’t know what was going on. I was called by many names: a "cry baby", a "drama queen", an "attention seeker" or a "faker." But what the other kids at school and on the sports field didn't know was that I was afraid to go to sleep at night because I was scared of my own dreams. My thoughts were so heavy and my chest was so tight.

This is a story I've never told because I grew up wanting to be nothing but strong. Pain was a sign of weakness and I never wanted anyone to believe that I was weak. No one could know that I sat in my room gasping for air every night. Only my family knew that I would come home from school everyday and cry. I was raised to be strong and this disorder made me feel so weak. I couldn't breathe. Every breath stopped short. Gasping for air that just wouldn't come while others watched in shock when I would have an uncontrollable attack at school. They had no clue what was going on. When I first started getting panic attacks I didn't either, all I knew was that it wasn't normal.

My family felt my pain. I swear I could see my mom her grabbing her chest every time a panic attack swelled up in my lungs. She was the only one who could calm me down. She had had enough, we all had. My disorder wasn't only affecting me, it was affecting everyone who cared about me, everyone who could see me hurting.

Against my wishes my mom got me diagnosed in middle school and took me to see a therapist regularly. As much as I fought it I began taking medication for my anxiety. It was amazing how quickly things changed. I still had panic attacks but it went from two a day to once a day, and once a day to once a week. I could finally fill up my lungs with air without my breath stopping short. I could go to bed at night without having night terrors. I still haven’t woken up crying and screaming since. I remember coming home from school and my mom and stepdad sitting me down. I thought I was in trouble. Tears swelled up my mom's eyes as she smiled her biggest smile; she said "You seem so much happier. I want you to know we see a change." I had been very against the idea of taking medication, and I'm not saying it's for everyone, but it was right for me. I stopped being ashamed of my anxiety and saw it as a hurdle I could overcome, even if others didn't always see it the same way.

I remember even in high school my friends would hide my medication as if I should be ashamed, but here's the thing, my anxiety has made me so much stronger. I may overthink things, have trouble breathing from time to time and have a harder time gaining and maintaining relationships due to my anxiety but that's who I am. It's something I've learned to overcome every day of my life. I hope that if you deal with anxiety or any other disorder you aren't ashamed. I hope that you don't feel weak, because it makes us strong.

I am more than my disorder. I am more than my anxiety.

If you are struggling with your disorder please tell someone and know that you are not alone. You can visit www.teenhealthandwellness.com for information. Keep up the fight.