No matter how dreadful this world can be

I can still remember that day vividly, where I first experience that feeling. The feeling of
inability to think straight as if your mind was going into frenzied pace as well as your heart. It
pounds hard in your chest, rushing blood to your veins beyond the usual. The contraction of your
lungs painfully as if its being pierced, I cant help but to feel suffocated, gasping for air
helplessly as I let out the pain by bawling my eyes out until it gets swollen.

The muffled screams and cries as I undergo through it. lost in my own million thoughts,
asking myself What have I done to deserve this kind of pain? Did I do something wrong to
have like this?

Its not just the suffering itself that is hard to deal with but it was how my parents and
grandma looked like when they saw me in that state, I may be switching in and out of
consciousness, but I can remember how they tried to calm me down, to ease my pain. The
worried looks painted on their faces when I fall, motionless on the floor, unable to move any
parts of my body since I feel so weak. Its as if someone stole all my energy and left me with
nothing. All I have is the tingling of my hands and feet, the sweat that soaks my shirt, and the
tears that stained my face.

It was February 18, 2016. Just a few months after I turned sixteen, it was quite a stressful
day at school since it was the last day of submission of our research paper. I was so preoccupied
and busy just to meet the deadline. I went to numerous trips to school going back and forth to
home just to compile our data. Everyone was so busy and so do I, tomorrow will also be the day
of our Prom. I had accomplished the said task early and went home, but as I arrived at home, my
mom told me that were going to prepare the things I needed for the big day, with me in my
school uniform, we went to town, afterwards, we rest for a while at my grandmothers house, we
sat on a couch as we had our coffee and our merienda. I had a mug of coffee and a few bites of
cookie. It was almost 6, I headed into the bathroom when I felt a weird sensation in my chest.

I suddenly cant properly breath, my legs feel wobbly, my vision turned blurry and my
hands get clammy. My mom told me that were going home but I cant stand on my feet. This is
when I lose grip on reality, I saw weird people and distorted things. I know these are
hallucinations, they werent real and it was only me who can see them. One was a taller than the
usual man, sitting just beside the door of the bathroom where I have come from, he doesnt hurt
me, he just stares there blankly, it almost resembles the appearance of a Kapre. I described
what I saw only to see the odd their odd looks. I glanced at the ceiling, there I saw just a head of
a woman with its creepy look that made me outburst in fright. I was babbling nonsense things,
saying random topics between sobs and screams. My mom hushed me, everyone prayed and said
things to calm me down, it was a Muslim custom when somebody acts like this -like being
possessed- it is required to have a prayer and to make utter the wordsLa ilaha illallah meaning
theres no other God but Allah. We believed that uttering this would drive the evil spirits away
since they think that Im being possessed or something.

The next day, I found myself deeply affected. I am unable to attend the prom, my eyes
were so swollen that its even hard for me to open them. I felt weak and my parents advised to
just stay at home, I insisted on attending but all they did was just consoled me, saying that its
okay, therell be next time.

It was the starting point, I never knew that I would develop this. I started researching, the
symptoms fall under Schizophrenia but I cant absolutely be certain about this.

There were several attacks, mostly triggered when Im stress or when I consume caffeine
when exhausted. I was four weeks shy of turning sixteen when I was struck with the cruel
affliction of anxiety. It came in the form of panic attack, seemingly from nowhere- a bolt from
the blue. Like a thunderclap in my chest, an icy river down the length of my spine. Terror and
confusion clawed at the edges of my brain as I clutched fistfuls of the sweat-soaked shirt. As my
mind struggled to comprehend this new frightful development, there was a dim thought that
echoed through the midst of my blind panic. It told me with a chilling certainty, that nothing
would ever be the same again.

My parents have decided that I should see a doctor, just last summer break of this year,
we consulted a cardiologist since It was near my heart where it hurts. I had undergone ECG and
Xray tests just to find out the results, it came in and what it says was unbelievable; normal.

Relief flooded my moms chest for she thought I was having a heart congenital disease
but it wasnt my heart the problem, its me and the way how I think. The doctor said that even
the results show Im okay, she still diagnosed me with anxiety. Theres a possibility that theres
really wrong with me, of course, there is, Im fine cardiological but when my mom tells her
something more about the symptoms shown by me, she recommended me to see a psychiatrist.

My mom strongly disagreed with the idea of me visiting a psychiatrist, she knew that
only those people who REALLY need help go there, little did she know that its what I had
wanted ever since, to seek help from the professionals.

We didnt return to to the hospital after that when were supposed to still see my doctor
the next day. Mom said that I should be the one to control my emotions and not the other way
around. My father said the same, I should overcome this by myself since no one else could save
me but me.

I tried to conceal my weakness in public. I remained reserved, calm and bold to hide my
secrets within. I have to hold my grip against the things that trigger me. Forcing myself to act
like it was nothing like Im okay, but honestly, not all the time, I am. Whenever this anxiety
attack happens, I loathe myself for being so fragile and weak and useless. Why cant I just be
like others who don't experience this? Why do I have to be like this?

I know this was quite long and I honestly havent said all the full details but I feel
relieved that I had let out all the thoughts that I have bottled up all these years. By far, this is my
saddest story. This may sound a little self-centered but its all about me. I hope one day I could
tell it to someone that even though it was sad, it finally made me stronger than how I used to be,
that it had already molded me to a better version of myself that overcome such things like things
because I never gave up on life, I continued to dream and persist to reach my goals, to breathe, to
fight the demons within me because I want to live how I really want to be and I carry on no
matter how dreadful this world can be.