Age 11, Treading water. Age 12, Drowning.

Age 11.

I find it harder to settle at night.

As soon as the night starts to go quiet I feel nauseas.

The quieter my surroundings, the louder my thoughts, the more my stomach turns.

The doctor tells my Mum I have an anxiety disorder.

Age 12.

Sometimes during the day, I find myself suddenly unable to take a breath.

I realise at that second that I never really learn to breathe. It just happens.

I try to remember how, but there's no memory of a lesson on how to breathe. 

It's just supposed to happen. 

So when it suddenly stops happening, an overwhelming dread takes over my body.

I'm dying. 

I'm standing in the middle of the street, drowning.

This is a sensation I will experience for years to come.

These are my panic attacks.

Thank you Caitlin (pictured)

You don't even realise you're in there!

Negative self talk is a nasty fucking sneaky habit.

After a good batch of therapy (strongly recommend) I was able to start recognising the cruel messages I told myself daily.

I was SO cruel.

Rebekah you're useless. Why do you even try? 

Just give up. 

Stop wasting space. 

Rebekah you're ugly.

people can't stand to be around you

 because you're annoying and stupid 

and no one will ever love you, 

because as I said, you're ugly.

Rebekah you're a failure.

Stupid, Ugly, Useless, Failure.

Once my mum said to me: 

"Would you ever say these things to your best friend?"

No! Never! Of course not! That's horrible! I would never say those things to anyone!

"So why do you say them to yourself?"