The first time I had a panic attack I was 6, I was at school having an spanish exam and something didn't felt right. It started with just a little shaking but I though it was just that I was nervous due the exam I had that day then I couldn't breath no matter how hard I tried, that attack lasted 5.5 minutes. Neither my teacher nor my parents cared about it.

I was diagnosed with post traumatic disorder and generalised anxiety disorder when I was 9, my parents said it was not a big deal.

Until I was 12 my parents never bought me the medication I had to take, it wasn't until I was taken to the hospital because no one could stop one of the panic attacks I had that day. I had at least 5 panic attacks per day.

Since that time my medications has been changed at least 13 times, it never works it just gives mse more anxiety or gets me extreamly tired.

This year I decided I didn't want to suffer anymore, I want to heal, to feel better for myself, for my future. I decided I was going to find something to keep me grounded so everytime I feel like my body is leaving I think about it, that is the memory of my grandmother

anxiety and pink image

So far it has worked alongside with my new medication. I have realized that I'm not defined by my anxiety, it sure is a part of myself, but it's not my only treat. For those who suffer from any mental ilness let me tell you I know it's not an easy road, but this does not mean it is an uncrossable one. I have a collection about anxiety and how to help those who suffer from it: