Hi.
I'm nineteen, I've been living with anxiety for the past five years of my life, though even before, it kind of has always been there. My therapist says it's because of an issue from back when I was in eighth grade. 

My father was my hero, I loved him, held him at a pedestal like no other. I liked my mum too, but my father damn, he was like a fucking hero to me. He had a touring job so was here 3 days a week max.

Long story short, he was cheating.

I saw my mum breakdown, like literally sob all day. I used to see that, year up a little, I could feel my heart break a little more everytime I saw that. I was shocked, angry, sad, helpless, I didn't know what to do. 

I just knew one thing, I needed to make my mum happy, I didn't want her to cry ever again. I made that my purpose. I called my father, told him to fuck off. They got back together. A lot of crying. A lot of drama. I got numb. Didn't process any of it. I was helpless.

We've been a family since then, but I hate him. Only reason I tolerate him, is because he makes good money which we need for college.

I developed a habit then, the habit of not letting any of it effect me at all. I remember going to school with a smile on my face, and I never told a single soul about it. Simply because, I had no one that close to me.

It started taking its toll. I started working super hard to distract myself. However the slightest inconvenience would send me spiralling. I  feel my heart go bonkers, it aches, my breath shortens, and I just fuck off.

I discovered debating, and fell in love with it. I loved the attention. But I also loved winning. I hate myself. I would win, and look at a trophy and cry, like sob for no real reason.

I even became the headboy of my school, I excelled, I always kept on thinking it would go away with my next achievement but it didn't, it only got worse.

I continued hustling, gave an entrance exam this year, made it into the best colleges out there. During the prep time it was horrible. It kept getting postponed because of covid, and I used to get attacks two three times a day. Anything going wrong, and my thoughts would blur.

I conditioned myself to think it was normal. I told my father about it two years back,  he told me it was just stress. I didn't know what to say. I don't remember the last time I went through a day without having an attack.

I only discovered it isn't normal when I talked to my college therapist who's amazing. I have started controlling physicak symptoms now, you need to just take an air bag and blow air into it through your mouth, the panic then abates. But the mental cycle, the clouds of despair and hopelessness would surround me and be there fir an hour. No one would want to talk to me. No one would love me. These are the thoughts I have. And I suffer. And I choke. And I shake. 

I got a girlfriend now, and she's the only person who knows about all of it. But I have so many issues, and she's on a break which I don't think she'll want to call off. I have paranoia that people around me will always betray me. We were talking to a couple of her friends in the last date, and the three kept on talking, and I just felt so...ALONE. she tried to include me but they didn't give a fuck. She did it thrice. Then she asked me if I was alright, I said yes but I wasn't. I was furious. I was angry. At everyone. And I told them I needed to go, while my girlfriend walked out, I told her I wasn't needed so I am fucking off. She tried to stay I told her to go away.

Then when I reached home I texted her that it was terrible, really terrible, and I hated it. The talkin. And I blamed her. I demonised her. And now I think I might've driven away the only person who ever understood me. I'm afraid. And anxious. My mental issues fucked up the one non worldly thing I valued. I hate it. I hate myself. Why am I like this?