I have an anxiety disorder.  Doesn’t take away my value as a human. Doesn’t mean I’m entitled to special treatment either, except a better
understanding of my “pecularities”.**

Every time I hear someone say: “Just get over your panic attacks’, I want to do something physical involving their face and my fist. But hey, I’m a civilized person (more or less) and antics like that are better left to sociopaths toting huge guns.

It isn’t easy. With me, a panic attack starts with a light sweating, then my chest becomes like a heavy weight until I am sure I must die.

Here’s what I think: nononono please just gogogogogo away.dontwanttodie thisisjusttooMUCHforme. lemmebreathe.  You get the idea.  It isn’t only in my head, it causes physical discomfort, and it isn’t a difficulty that is easy to overcome.  It is a real problem.  It doesn’t even mean I’m totally nuts.

Or does it?  Nyah.

How I deal with anxiety is simply to write. Or crawl under the covers of my bed.  Or to take a nip or ten of a warm butt-kicking liquor.

**My pecularities being a fear/loathing of all these things:

A fear of winding, harrowing roads.
Slugs.
Lying.
Crowds of people.
Heights.