“You’re crazy”, he shouted at me. “You’re freaking out and nobody knows what you’re talking about”.
My stomach lurched and my heart dropped. Pain welled in my throat and the tears that now flowed like an uncontrollable fire hydrant now washed down my face. My voice was so choked I couldn’t even muster a response.
Ask anyone who suffers from anxiety and I think they will agree, those two words - "you're crazy" - hurt more than anyone could understand.
Because what we already feel in the midst of an anxiety attack is a loss of control of our emotions, our thoughts, our being. Every word that wants to come out cyclones into a monstrous torrent of incoherent thoughts. Only a few words ring clear through that garbled mess, and they are not pretty" Dramatic, stupid, monster, b****.
At least those are the only words I can make out when an attack comes on me. Because those are the words I have been called. Now we add crazy to that list, and boy, do I want to show you what crazy really looks like.
It is not an understatement for me to say that in those moments when my mind shuts down and my emotions break loose that I genuinely feel like I'd rather die than for the person on the receiving end of this meltdown to see me like this.