Today, in the middle of a seemingly normal Wednesday, I almost had a panic attack.

I say almost because I was equipped with some tools to prevent it from happening.

I say almost because I have had two panic attacks in the past, and I know what they feel like.

I say almost because as I picked up my shot put for a simple practice throw, I could feel my anxieties and stresses fly out of my control along with the ball.

Let me preface the experience by telling you how my week has been going. I'll summarize quickly and spare you nitty gritty details, since I'm like 99% sure no one wants to read some whiny student rant about how hard college is: NOT VERY WELL. And this really isn't me complaining, I understand that everyone has tough weeks. I hate to be one of those girls who whines about having too much to do and not enough time. So please, take all of this with a grain of salt. I, however, am pretty convinced that I am one of the worst people in the world at handling stress. Because of this inability to cope, little stressors turn into big ones and big stressors turn into unmanageable beasts.

After a midterm project that fell through the roof sent me on somewhat of a rampage scanning for new ideas, I knew I needed to send some bodyguards up to my brain to keep the stress out. Apparently my bodyguards fell asleep on the job because, trust me, that stress snuck in - and with no cover charge. As hard as I tried to fight it off, I couldn't shake the anxiety.

Every time I sat down to work on homework, my heart started to race. I was physically unable to get any work done, but not getting any work done was causing my anxiety to heighten. See the problem? This never-ending cycle of needing to concentrate but being unable to focus on anything was basically eating me alive. And by Wednesday, it was ready to finish me off and take the final bite.

It's hard to describe a panic attack to someone who has never experienced one, but I'll do my best. I also know that these attacks can feel different for everyone, and this is simply my experience.

In the hours before, I always just feel tired. My body is completely out of energy and my brain is on autopilot. It's like driving a car that's out of gas - not gonna happen.

In the minutes before, the smallest things get under my skin. A bad practice throw made me cry. The very mild strain in my shoulder might as well have been a broken bone. The beads of sweat on my forehead were definitely out to get me and the rocks under my feet were clearly trying to knock me over.

In the seconds before, my vision gets blurry. My head feels full of air and chest feels heavy like I'm about to hurl. The quietest noises sound like airhorns. Imagine being hungover and then getting on a spinny carnival ride. That's the first stage.

As soon as I felt all of this happen, I knew I had to get the hell out of Lane Stadium (where I was at track practice) or else I would QUICKLY be in the midst of a full-on, bawling crying, laying on the ground, can't catch my breath panic attack. I put my shot put back in the shed and hauled ass away from the track as fast as possible. Admittedly, in the mindset I was in, it probably wasn't very fast at all.

Once I was away from that setting, I sat cross-legged on the ground and closed my eyes. I took deep breaths and kept my palms pressed hard into the grass to remind myself that I was safe and sound. I went through an awareness exercise that helps keep me grounded. For me, the biggest thing that prevents an attack is remembering where I am, staying conscious, and being fully aware of my surroundings. Before I knew it, I was able to stand up. I was able to think for myself again. I was able to get a grip and assess the experience I just had.

Suddenly, it was all over.

I am sharing this story to remind everyone that you can choose not to be a victim of your anxieties. (PSA: I am not saying that you are playing the victim if you have a panic attack, I totally and completely know that is not the truth - I am simply saying there are some things you can do to help yourself). A panic attack is one of the most helpless situations I have ever been in, and I wouldn't wish the feeling on my worst enemy. It can be hard for me to remember that I am in control of my own body.

The tricky thing is that we cannot control everything that happens around us or everything that happens to us. I tend to forget this part and get easily frustrated when something is out of my control. The only things we can control are the things we do and say. Today, by doing exactly that, I prevented a horrible thing from happening.

Today, in the middle of a seemingly normal Wednesday, I almost had a panic attack.

I say almost because I chose not to let my anxiety get the best of me.

I say almost because I took back control of my body and decided I didn't want to put myself through the inevitable.

I say almost because I didn't have one, and I couldn't be more proud to admit that.