Anxiety Disorder Panic Attack



Something about anxiety disorder panic attack

Four words that made my life miserable are: anxiety disorder panic attack.



In my thirties I realized that something major was wrong with me. I don’ really know how it happened I just know that one day it hit me that I’m in trouble and not quite normal. No, I wasn’t insane but I feared I might go crazy and that fear was unbearable.

I simply felt like I was losing my mind. That is one of the worst feeling I experienced in my entire life. I was constantly thinking about how they are going to lock me up in some psychiatric hospital where I’m going to spend the rest of my days. Then I was worried about what would happen with my belongings and all different silly kinds of things.

The worst things were panic attacks. I hate them from the bottom of my soul and wish them all the worst which, in their case, is to never occur in any person again. Anxiety disorder-panic attack is the worst combination on this planet and it cost me a lot.

I lost my job, not once but tree times. My wife left me for, as she would say, our sane dentist with perfect teeth. My own children are ashamed of me because I am “insane”, again as their mother would say. I lost most of my so called friends and only my dog was faithful and my comfort.

I was alone when I needed help, love and support more than bread. I gave them everything. My wife was my princess and she was really cherished. Now she is a princess to our dentist and I have to look for another one. However this time my dentist will be a female.

I suffered from panic attacks so severe that I was convinced I was about to die. There were times that I prayed to God to take me and end my suffering. I was so angry at God, my parents for giving birth to me and everybody around me, because no one could understand me and help me. The only thing they were good at, was blaming me for being ill.

I know that it must have been difficult to live with someone who suffered from symptoms of anxiety and depression and on top of all that, panic attacks but they all seemed to forget that I didn’t choose to get ill.

Well, I apologized to all of them for being ill and decided to get better. I promised my four words, "Anxiety Disorder Panic Attack” that made my life miserable that I would defeat them and erase them from my vocabulary. After all, they are nothing but words.

Psychotherapy was the answer to my prayers. I had this great therapist that truly believed that I can get better and helped me defeat my disorder. He believed in me, and that was something that I needed so badly. Of course he treated me and did all those professional therapeutic things that I didn’t quite understand but the thing that was most important to me was that he believed in me.

He believed in someone who was marked as loser by his entire family and the majority of his friends; and he was right. After two years of therapy I was a completely different person and “anxiety disorder panic attack” became nothing but words to me and nothing more. I was free at last. Free to live, to dream, and to make plans, to work and enjoy life.




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