I live my life in worry. I am constantly scared of the next attack. Panic attacks are my life. I get them when they want me to, it is totally out of my control. Honestly, it sucks. The pains, the worry, how others see it. Panic is hereditary, my dad has it too. Technically I have panic attacks but also Panic disorder. Which is just someone who has them frequently and is worried about when the next is going to happen. That can be almost more stressful than the panic attacks. Like my dad, at first I didn’t know what they were. I seriously thought I was about to die. The first one scared me most. Breathing got harder, my throat was closing in, hot flashes then chills. I was going crazy, I couldn’t walk, I saw myself dying, I didn’t feel like me. Turns out all of those are symptoms. Along with hundreds of others. My list can get long, some of my symptoms come and go. It’s hard because you never know. They make good days bad, bad days worse. Plus people talk. I’ve heard things like “Oh she’s faking for attention.” or “She just wants an excuse to get out of class.” I wish it was that. My mom doesn’t understand. She doesn’t have them. She’s never had to run out of class because she feels a weight on her shoulders and sudden fear coming. While it happens, it is hard to think it will be over soon, just around 15-20 minutes tops. All I can think is how terrible it is and how scared I am. I try to think of fight or flight. That’s why I get them. My body feels dangered so it takes blood from my weaker muscles to put in my core so if I need to run away I can or if I need to hold my own I can, That comes from the cave man times. I don’t know what triggers my body to feel danger, well sometimes I do, but usually it’s a big mystery. When I first found out about them I started crying a lot, usually each day because I thought I was a freak. I just wanted a normal life, a care free life. I know it won’t be like that. I have accepted that. I am living with panic attacks each second of my life and I know I am going to be ok.