I Tried to Beat the Anxiety Algorithm

I'm lying on the floor of a public bus in San Francisco's bustling mid-market corridor. I'm not sure how I ended up with my head rolling over a crumpled Starburst wrapper, but I am acutely aware that I can't breathe and my hands and face have gone completely numb. I instinctively look down, honestly unsure if my hands are still attached to my body. As two paramedics board the bus, I feel that sinking feeling in my chest -- the feeling when you hope the earth opens up, swallows you whole and you disappear. I start apologizing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened." The paramedics, as always, are gently taking my vitals, asking for my name and telling me those dreaded words, "we think you had an anxiety attack." Until about a year ago, my understanding of "an anxiety attack" was a brief few moments of panic, generally accompanied by chest tightness, clamminess and sweating. But when I started regularly passing out in public places, I realized that my previous understanding was of anxiety in its infancy -- the younger, tamer cousin of the fully developed anxiety beast that I would spend the next six months battling. I started experiencing anxiety in July, but I didn't know what it was. I felt the physical affects -- chest pain, stomachaches and constant fatigue -- but the mental side of it, the side that actually recognizes anxiety, hadn't started. For months I fretted over the growing pain in my chest, worrying that I was developing asthma or a serious heart pr...
Source: Healthy Living - The Huffington Post - Category: Consumer Health News Source Type: news