No More Panic At the Disco

A lot can happen in a year. Last night, while getting ready to go out with my roommate Elli in Chicago, I realized that exactly one year ago to the day I was suffering my first major panic attack in a Foxwoods hotel room.

The combination of a brutal New England winter and the congestion of unhappiness from my job, living situation and relationships with certain friends caused my mind to simply break down in the form of panic and anxiety. The ensuing months were the worst I can ever remember living in my entire life.

I couldn't drive without being on edge and if I ran into traffic, forget it. I shed extra calories from taking the stairs in lieu of the elevator because I developed claustrophobia. I was afraid to sleep at night and couldn't be alone in the dark.

I managed to make it through after a lot of hard work and determination to change what I hated about my life. My sanity depended on it. Thanks to the support of family and friends, one year later I am in a completely different--and better--place.

Now, in January 2010, I just passed the five-month mark living in Chicago and am in the middle of earning a Master's in Journalism from DePaul. I have two great roommates and live in a great apartment in a great city. While I miss my family and friends and go through stages where I want to jump off a cliff thanks to school, I am completely happy. I haven't had a panic attack in months.

What a difference a year makes.

While I still have some hard days where I can feel the onset of an attack, I think of where I am compared to where I was a year ago and take a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I remember where I am and can't help but smile.

Indeed, what a difference a year makes. But I still take the stairs... I guess some things don't change.