From the outside it's extremely easy to think somebody has got everything figured out. Since I'm not bleeding, dying or in pain, it's easy to assume someone's worst demons don't even exist, but most demons are the ones that can't be seen. And my biggest monster is most definitely not seen.

In the fourth grade, I had difficulty breathing, blurry vision, pain in my throat and an unbearable headache. My mother, not knowing what to do, admitted me into the hospital. Doctors coming in and out, sticking needles in my arms, asking ridiculous questions all to hear their diagnosis: panic attack. The words,still pounding in my head, not only confused me but it scared me. I was doing this to myself. Every emotion I was feeling or symptom I suffered wasn't caused by a medical condition or disease, it was just me. How could I do this to myself? Was I crazy? These questions, for most of my life, I asked a billion times and I never came to a conclusion.

The next day at school, I felt different. My schedule was the same and I spoke with my friends but was everything ever going to be the same? Since being diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, it has stopped me from seeing the qualities in life and resulted to several miserable and depressing years. Nobody understands what it feels like to go by each day worrying about everything. Feeling every possible feeling all at once. I avoid eye contact and not because I am ignoring you or have no interest but I'm making sure you don't see that I'm constantly cracking my knuckles, gnawing on the insides of my cheeks and that my palms are sweating.

The definition of anxiety is: a mental disorder characterized by feelings of worry, anxiety, or fear that are strong enough to interfere with someone's daily activities. So how could my friends not have noticed? Well, I learned that by bearing it and smiling, nobody notices because clearly a downcast wouldn't show a hint of happiness. I didn't want my friends, besides my closest ones, to know what I was going through. Being ashamed with my issues, I had become insecure and tried being someone I wasn't just to prove nothing was wrong with me.

To control my anxiety, I've been going to therapy for about a year now. By getting help I have realized that by accepting it, it will help me down the road to recovery. There isn't anything wrong with me; the anxiety has been developing for several years. Hopefully, with a lot of dedication and perseverance, in a couple years I will overcome my condition and live a much happier and healthier life.