Don’t Say You Don’t Remember

Denise had been experiencing anxiety and panic attacks since she was eight years old. No one knew about them, or perhaps they just chose not to acknowledge them. The first time Denise had a panic attack, she went to her mother, scared out of her mind. However, as with many things in Denise’s life, her mother disregarded or ignored it, often because she was either sleeping or reading and didn’t want to be disturbed. She would tell Denise to go back to bed and go to sleep, reassuring her that she would be fine. Denise was terrified the very first time it happened, and truly thought she was going to die. But she went back to bed because her mother told her to.

However, whatever was happening to her was getting worse. The more she panicked, the worse she started to feel. She began to feel like she couldn't breathe and was gasping for air. She then thought she should go into the bathroom and get some water. But then she started to feel like her whole body was numb. That’s when she started to shake violently. She couldn’t stop the shaking and the numbness that took over her body. Then her throat felt like it was closing, and she couldn't swallow. It felt like cotton was stuffed in her mouth. And that’s when she started to wheeze and spit up phlegm. Then the stomach issue started. It felt like she was going to have an attack of violent diarrhea.

Never in Denise’s life had she ever experienced anything like this. This attack, or whatever was happening, lasted for three hours. It almost seemed like she was possessed like the exorcist. Denise was drained after the episode subsided. She felt weak and lethargic, and she didn’t understand it at the time. But all she knew was that she dealt with this horrible and terrifying attack all alone. No one came to help her. And then when it happened again and again periodically, she had to deal with it all alone in the bathroom for hours.

Denise never knew what it was called and why it happened. She only knew that when it did happen, no one cared. When she told her mother, her mother didn’t seem worried. She brushed it off and told Denise that she probably ate something bad. But it wasn’t that. Her mother ignored it. And she never took Denise to the doctor for this. Denise had come to learn to live with whatever this was that would happen to her. And she never knew when it would happen. But eventually she started to see a pattern. And it seemed to happen when she was very upset over something, or when something bad had happened to cause it like now.