Since the age of 9 I have suffered from anxiety. Now I live in Hong Kong.
Towards the summer of my last year in Primary School, my parents announced to me that I would be going to a new school, that I’d got in. I was confused, I already had a school, the school down the road with all my friends. My parents insisted it would be a better education for me, I don’t ever remember being asked my opinion, though I remember crying, a lot. At the end of the school year I left all I had ever known.
This school was different, the kids, the layout, it was huge. Within a matter of days I began to feel sick all the time as if I was about to have a horrendous bout of food poisoning. I went to the nurses office every lunch it seemed. I should explain something else, I’m also scared of people vomiting. Somehow my fear of being sick has evolved into the reaction I get when I feel anxious. I did meet friends, but I wasn’t respected by the teachers here like I was at my old school.
After two difficult years of making new friends, falling out with friends and generally learning that people can be both incredible and intolerable, I was told I was moving again. This move would take me back to the friends I’d had previously. Two years of learning how to live this new life and I would be returning. My parents thought I would be overjoyed, but the whole thing came as a horrible blow. Again came the feelings of dread, the now all too familiar feeling of sickness. I’d never been taught how to deal with change and I was far too young to understand the concept.
For all of this I got told off by my parents, they didn’t understand what was going on and assumed i was ‘attention seeking’ a popular myth. The doctors had told me there was nothing wrong with me and I felt so alone.
For every time someone gets up the courage to tell you they’re having an anxiety attack, they have sat alone and endured so many more.