I am reposting this under DAE because I'd like to know if you guys can relate at all. I had horrible social anxiety as well as separation anxiety as early as I can remember. I can remember having dance recitals when I was 5 or 6 and crying, holding onto my mom's leg because I was so afraid to go out there and be away from her. She also had signed me up for soccer, and all I'd do during the games was hold onto the leg of my soccer coach, who was also my kindergarten teacher.

From elementary school into early middle school, I'd cry going to church because my mom would make me go to the youth group stuff. I'd beg to stay with my parents because I was so afraid to be by myself. I never made friends with the other kids and had intense anxiety and insecurity when I was around them. I constantly felt like I was below them, and it didn't help that I also felt really insecure since my family was struggling financially and the other kids I was around didn't.

Middle school was it's own personal hell for me. I was a small girl and prone to fainting when my blood sugar dropped. I didn't want to eat breakfast because I was so anxious and had no appetite, but my mom would make me eat something and I'd get really nauseous from the food + anxiety. I also had horrible stomach problems from anxiety. My anxiety was exacerbated by having to wait on the bus, which I was always afraid I would miss or that it would be late and so I would be late to class. I hated that thought because it meant that I'd have to walk in front of everyone in my class and explain why I was late to my teacher. When I was especially anxious, I'd daydream about being with my mom and getting to spend the day with her at work. Sometimes I'd fake sick so that I didn't have to go to school.

Looking back on all of the signs, I wish that someone would have helped me with my anxiety. It's been a lifelong issue for me. But in hindsight, I am not surprised that nothing was done. The first and only time I ever brought up my serious emotional concerns about anxiety with my mom, I asked her if there is some medicine that can help me because I was literally unable to take a deep breath for weeks. She told me I am fine and that I don't need medication. She told me that she'd taken medication before for depression and that it didn't make her feel good, and that was her reason for why I didn't need to get help. My concern about medication wasn't really a suggestion though, more of a cry for any form of help.