At the age of the nineteen I experience a mental break down. I have never been so scared in my life. I honestly thought I was dying. I was in my room chilling even thought I was suppose to be cleaning. My right arm started to twitch. I went to my younger brother and told him. I go to him to talk about my worries or problems because we have been through so much together. I tried to make the twitching stop but it would and I started to worry. I started to not feel good. It felt like I was about to have a anxiety attack. When I have my anxiety attack I feel like I can't breath and hen I end up trying to catch my breathe but I'll get dizzy to the point I'm about to pass out but I never do. It also felt like I didn't have the energy to even stand. I usually get like that when I have gotten very little sleep but it also comes with blurry vision as if I was and to collapse. Sometimes I would be so weak that even laying on the ground doesn't help. Anyway, I kept repeating to my mom, brother, and step dad that I didn't feel right, that something is wrong. They would ask me what is wrong and I could not explain it to them so I would say that I don't know, I don't feel well. It got so bad that I asked to go to the hospital. I don't like going to the hospital because I feel like its kind of a waste of the and money unless you know for a fact that they can do something to help you not kick the bucket. My mom drove me there. She kept asking my how do I feel and I would reply with I don't know. I just kept think that I don't want her to worry. One thing you need to know about me is that I don't like people to worry about me but yet I worry about others almost more than i should. I felt bad when she was driving me there because even though she said she was not worried I know she was. When I got to the hospital I tried to walk up to the desk but I only got into the doors. I felt so weak that I couldn't stand and I sat on he ground to try to get energy but that didn't help. The nurses and my mom had to put me in a wheel chair. I started crying and my whole body was twitching. My mom was holding me telling me it was okay. I just couldn't stop crying and repeating I'm so scared and help me. For a little while I was confused of where I was and who was these people were but in the verryy back of my mind, where I basically forgot it exist, I knew. By the time doctors actually took me to the back to be seen I was okay. I didn't get a word in with speaking to the doctor. He asked me if I was depressed, had anxiety and had thought of suicide. My mom kept talking to him, telling him about my history and family life issues. How I am "afraid of getting a job." How I just shut myself in my room away from others. How I never want to talk to her about what I want to do and how I should get a job. In reality, I don't like to talk to her about my goals I in because she likes to either make fun of it, put my dreams down or throw up 'what if's'. On top of that, she wants me to work at any job or go to school. I don't want to go to school for something I don't want my career to be. I had that chance to go to school for what I want to do in life but I missed it because of money. I can still do my career goal without a degree in my hand. I just want her to watch me succeed in a way of saying "I told you I can make it and you didn't believe me. It's going to take take some time because nothing in life is ever easy. I think me working at a job to get money is fine but working at any job isn't. I need a job that's some what interesting and fun. I don't want to be like everyone complaining about how they have to go to work. I want a job that I don't hate and don't really mind working there. I shut myself in my room and lock the door because of privacy. I like my privacy. I don't want people messing with my stuff and going through things. I don't want anyone busting in my room, which they do sometimes, when I'm laying around half naked or naked. It's as simple as that. The doctor told me that I shouldn't stay up until 3am and getting up at 12 or 1pm. I should get 7 to hours of sleep. Then he gave me pills for my anxiety, a pump for my anxiety attacks, and someone to help me find a therapy. I went home that night to see what causes a mental break down. I saw anxiety and stress. I looked up what causes anxiety and one of them is enivormental stress. That's what's it all boils down to stress. My first thought of that realization is that I need to get out of this house, but I also thought, I need to better myself. Now, in this very moment of writing this, I'm still in this house. Since then I had some realization and acceptances and I 'm still figuring it out. I don't long until I move out. When I get stressed now, I swear that my right arm twitches a little bit.
