Panic

This post is written in response to a writing prompt from Mama Kat at Mama Kat's Losin' It! The prompt was 3.) Your first panic attack.

I have a panic disorder, so as you can expect, I have had many a panic attack over the years. Though the first one that I can clearly remember was when I was 8, turning 9. My family was moving across the country from Columbus, OH to St. Louis, MO. We were visiting St. Louis while house hunting, and it was over my birthday. While we were there, my parents decided to do a little site seeing. So, we went to the St. Louis Arch. The whole way down there from our hotel, they kept telling my little sister and I that we were "Going up the Arch". No real description other than that. Well, my sister and I took that as "We are climbing up the outside of the Arch." Then they started telling us how tall it was, and that you could probably feel the Arch swaying in the wind. Mind you, this is December, on the river. So, my sister and I started freaking out. I was majorly freaking out. I started hyperventilating, my vision started to go gray, I was shaking, I was crying. The world was going to end if they made me climb the outside of the Arch as I was picturing. In my head, we were climbing up a HUGE ladder on the outside of an arch, and we were going to be blown off to go flying to the ground. I do believe I ended up yelling at my parents that I didn't want to climb the Arch, I wanted to wait at the bottom.

Once they realized why my sister and I were panicking they calmed us down, and through our tears explained to us, that no, we were going up in a little bitty elevator INSIDE of the Arch, not climbing the outside we calmed down some. My racing heart slowed, my vision returned to normal, the tears and screaming stopped. But, truly, that was not my last experience with panic. I have one, at least a minor one at least once a week. Some day, after much work, I hope to overcome these horrible things.