It was a year ago this week that I finally had the courage to say something.

I will never forget it. My battle with anxiety was at an all-time high. Our then-five-month-old son had just been diagnosed with bronchitis, my infantryman husband had to have surgery on a torn ligament in his wrist and I had just started working on my doctorate two months earlier.

That night, after listening to our little son cough and snot his (eventual) way to sleep, I stood over my husband’s recliner. As he looked up at me, I started to sob. My breathing increased and I started to shake.

I had my first (and thankfully only) true panic attack. [Read more…]