I was a sophomore in college on a trip to Niagara Falls with my mom. I remember riding on the tram to the falls and feeling disoriented and not quite right. Later I suddenly felt like I was drowning and couldn’t reach the water’s surface. I experienced five to ten minutes of sheer terror and became virtually incapacitated for the remainder of the vacation. A trip to a Canadian hospital determined that it was probably something I had eaten earlier. I wondered if was I really dying and no one knew it.
Once back in college, I pretty much forgot about the experience in Canada and resumed my normal activities. But one night, during an on-campus study hall with my head buried in a financial accounting textbook, it happened again. I experienced a powerful rush and felt as if I were no longer seated in my chair. I muttered to a friend beside me, “You’ve got to get me out of here.” Public safety officers rushed to my aid, checked my vital signs, and again determined that nothing was wrong. But now I knew something was. My fear of what had transpired became so unbearable that I could no longer attend classes. I dropped out of school for the semester and moved home.
I went to multiple doctors trying to figure out what was “wrong” with me. They offered up an array of misdiagnoses, until finally my mother learned of a local anxiety disorders clinic. This is where I was able to get accurate information that matched my symptoms. I had panic disorder.
Due to a subsequent agoraphobia, I was relearning how to walk down the street again and leave the safety of my home. With suitable specialized treatment, I returned to college (the next semester) and graduated magna cum laude. I have since lived and worked overseas, commenced graduate school, founded a panic and anxiety support group to help others in need, and even developed an inspirational CD-ROM about my story. |
