Panic! Panic grips me as I stare at the screen. Once again I am trying to focus on the lines of text for my homework, necessary research for the week. Just trying to read the textbook and turn in some participation points on the forum is enough to shake me like this. Enough to make me have to stop and close my eyes and even cover them with my hands to prevent any more light coming in.

            This is not new, this is not even a special occurrence. After a while my heart rate calms down and my breathing returns to almost normal but that doesn’t mean that it’s over. All it means is that now I can get up and move around and pretend to be normal again. My hands are still shaking and my vision still grainy in the afterglow of adrenaline that coursed through me.

            It was not the homework itself that caused the panic, although it did trigger it. The panic was caused my a mental condition, commonly known as generalized anxiety disorder or simply “Anxiety” to most. Walking to the bus stop makes me anxious. I am too anxious to drive a car as simply getting behind the wheel makes my chest get tight.

            Beyond this, it exacerbates those who care about me because there are times when we will be talking or watching a movie or doing any other of the mundane acts that people do while living their lives and suddenly I will be gripped by panic and will find myself unable to talk or process or even interact with others on a basic level and afterwards the memory of the events is all shaky like it was taken on an old camera and underwater.

            Why am I so afraid of everything? Because fear was instilled in my mind from a young age. Because I was taught again and again that I was a lesser person and that it was perfectly acceptable for others to do hateful or even harmful things to me without repercussion and that I should not seek justice because it will only result in more suffering for me.

            I encounter a new person that I haven’t met before and immediately start wondering about their ability within a combat situation. Not because I want to fight them or fight alongside them but because I feel the need to assess the danger at all times. Hypervigilance is what it is called in psychology books. It also contributes to my difficulty sleeping at night.

            Hypervigilance is not just the constant analysis of a situation for danger but the over analysis of past situations to prevent perceived mistakes from reoccurring. One must always endeavor to interact with others in a way that discourages them from violence. Usually this means putting on an outer façade of strength and strangeness because people avoid what they fear.

            In the earlier stages of my life this was true for me but now I don’t have the energy to maintain a front. I have found myself screaming at people to leave me alone and to stop coming at me with their bullshit when they know that I am damaged goods. Not at home of course but at work and in public. Usually only to those who antagonize me but I have also come to realize that this is just another way that my panic attacks have manifested.

            I no longer even have the strength to pretend not to be broken out in public. It is embarrassing, even more so it is emasculating according to what was pressed into my mind from a young age about what a man must be. A man must not show emotions except maybe happiness and anger. A man must not be weak. A man must be strong. A man must be brave. A man must be able to support themselves and a family. A man must be stronger than life all the time until they die.

            These expectations are not only impossible to uphold but they are damaging to the minds of the youth. These mentalities only serve to bring more and more people to bottle up their emotions until the bottle begins to crack and spring leaks like a pressurized bottle of water. After a while, even duct tape and prayers cannot keep it together.

            Be kind to your children and tell them that it is ok to be themselves. Do not threaten them with violence in order to convince them to follow your rules of convenience.

            I can distinctly remember when I developed a fear of the dark as a child. All of a sudden all of the shadows of stacked toys and chests of drawers were making scary shapes and monsters in the dark. I spoke out to my older brother that I was afraid. He simply told me, a boy of four to shut up and go to bed or he, a boy of nine, would kick my ass. This was par for the course for any time during my childhood he found me doing something he did not like.

            Sometimes my ass was actually kicked by him. I knew pain, I knew fear, and I knew injustice that through my mother, the only authority source around higher than my brother who was tasked with watching my sister and I, there would be no salvation. Even if I were to tell on him for it he would only get grounded and then I would also get grounded because of the tattling rule. Following this I would be hurt again by him for getting him in trouble.

            I learned early on in life that there is no such thing as justice or safety. People ask me what I have to be afraid of. I sincerely ask them why they are not afraid. Anything can happen at any time and you never know when someone else is going to snap because of their own situation.

            How does this tie back to panic at doing my schoolwork? Well, as a child my mother had unrealistic expectations for me regarding school. Anything less than an “A” in every subject was reason for a lecture and months of being grounded, no television, internet, recreational books, friends, leaving the house except for school, or anything else fun. Anything less than perfection from me was punished and success was not lauded but simply expected.

            This resulted in unrealistic expectations of myself. Anytime I consider that I might not achieve a perfect score on something I freak out and cannot continue until after I have calmed myself.

Thanks again Mom.