My heart was racing, my stomach turned upside down, and created a knot in my throat. My lungs felt tight in my little chest, my breathing changed and I barely could keep up with how fast it was going. This wasn’t an unusual feeling. Every Friday back in the sixth grade we presented our projects and every time I would go up, I would feel this way. My teacher would always tell me “Please look to your peers instead of your paper”. Every time this happened this bitter cold feeling came first at my toes, then traveled up my legs and hit every single joint all the way to my face. My whole body would stop. My mind would be everywhere. “Where do I look???? I need to focus on what I’m saying. Oh my God, Alyssa is talking to Sara. Do they think this is trash? I mean, maybe. When am I going to be done speaking? I need to stop staring at the same people they’re going to think I’m weird.”  

Years passed and the same feeling followed me, but this time it was everywhere and different. If I didn’t stare at my computer for hours trying to figure out a better way to say “like” on my essay, then I wasn’t doing it right and it wasn’t enough. It was everywhere. If I got a test back and it was less than a B+, then I didn’t study for long enough. If my work simply didn’t meet my expectations, it was trash. 

Later on, I found out that it doesn’t have to be this way. Well, I didn’t find this out by myself, it was my mom. She came back from work very late one day and saw me sitting at the kitchen counter with my computer. She asked me what was I doing and I explained to her that earlier that day, I had a panic attack in school but I needed to finish and turn in some work. My mom changed her facial expression immediately when she saw that my fingers turned into bloody nubs and my legs were bouncing up and down. I felt her hand on my back and she proceeded to ask me all these questions related to why I had a panic attack. I just told her that I was overwhelmed. She asked why, and I couldn’t come up with an answer. She asked me what was bothering me, and I once again did not have an answer. “Okay then, let’s take a break,” she said. She kept talking but I didn’t hear her, all my mind was thinking about was the assignments that I had to turn in by midnight. My brain was screaming at me telling me to please go back to do all of that, and it was telling me that once I would be done I would maybe feel better. Once my mom was done speaking, I went back to my computer and I did most of my work. I did not feel better, and I couldn’t finish. I told my mom, and she asked me, “Well, why aren’t putting yourself first?”

“Put me first?” I thought. What does that mean? Why would I possibly do that? I don’t have time, plus I have to turn things in and I can’t just tell my teacher that I had to put myself first. I would put myself first if my hand was broken, but my hand isn’t broken, I’m just stressed. I told my mom and she said, “yes, so take a break! Please take a break.” I tried to explain to her that If I don’t do my homework I stress out, and if I do it, then it must reach my expectations, so I just have to.

Then, it hit me. Although it doesn’t have to be that way, no matter what that uncomfortable feeling is always going to follow me. Even if I do get an A on my paper or if I’m in front of sixth graders, I can’t make it go away. Although my hand might not be broken, what tells my hand to write is my brain.  It cannot send signals down my nervous system to my hand if it's in constant panic mode. Sometimes, my brain is broken and I need time to fix it before I go back and work. 

I proceeded to ask my mom if my teachers would be okay with me turning in my homework late. Some other irrational fears crossed my mind like “will they hate me if I don’t do it on time?” “Do you think that they’ll think I’m lazy?” Which she responded to all of them with words coated in milk and honey. 

I went to school the next day and told my teacher my situation about the work that was due, and she told me “I’m glad you’re putting yourself first, I think we all need to do that sometimes. Especially kids your age.”