Many people today are struggling with their mental health. If you are one of them, I want you to know you are not alone. My struggle with mental health began at the age of nine. 

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It was four days after Christmas in 1987. We were at home in Florida when my mother got a call that they could not wake up my Grandma. It took us an hour and a half to get to Sarasota where my grandparents lived. By that time, it was official that Grandma had passed away. Suddenly she was gone. She wasn't sick at all. The autopsy couldn't pinpoint what happened. All of a sudden, people in my world can die for no apparent reason. 

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It was a few months later that the panic attacks started. I didn't want to suddenly die for no reason. I still don't. They say that when something triggers a mental health issue between the ages of 9-12, it will usually be expressed as an anxiety disorder. I wish I would have known that then; I wasn't officially diagnosed until I was in my thirties. 

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Panic Attack Disorder. It sucks. I have been battling it on and off for 36 years. Every time I  thought that I had it beat for good, it's reared its ugly head. 

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Over the last 10 years, it has led to agoraphobia. I have a difficult time traveling more than an hour or so from my house. I have missed ball games, cheer leading competitions, and family vacations because I can't travel. The pain of missing these family events is excruciating.

 

Eventually, one day, I will have time to share with you the whole story. For now, I want you to know that you are not alone, it's not your fault, it's NOT a lack of faith, and I hope you find this site and this page a safe place to share, suffer, and celebrate together. David.

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