The life of an angroaphobic

I was always a high strung person. I was overly nervous and cautious of people. I cried when I was seperated from my mom and was terrified of people .At 12 I didn't go school for 6 weeks I was too afraid.The kid were horrible to me and I felt like the feak of the week when I walked though the door.

I thought I was just weird and I felt like I needed to hide it.i tried but I started having panic attacks. After calling the paramedics after the umpteeth time I began staying where I felt safe which at first was local stores and my home.

When I began this it was like a terrifying fear something bad was going to happen if I couldn't get to my home and I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Gradually fear consumed me and I stopped leaving the house all together. Period. I didn't even go out to get the mail.People thought my husband was a single father and brought him caseroles and offerd to take the kids whenever he needed. I hit rock bottom then.I became so depressed I wanted to die. I stayed alive for my kids.

I tred and tried to break myself of it through counceling,medication but nothing worked, I was confined to my house and sometimes my bed for over a year.It started with a fear of dying and grew to a fear of losing my mind.

I paid people to go to the grocery store for me. I had friends take my kids to the dr when they were sick.I felt like a failure.

One day I was watching TV and Joyce Meyer came on TV. She said to do what you had to do afraid.I started to but when I lost my step mother it was a reality of how life is so short.

I went to her funeral which was the first time I left the house in 6 months.I couldn't go out without a panic attack so bad I would pass out.I had to gradually expose myself to getting further and further away until I could walk around a grocery store. Sometimes I left the car where it was and stepped out the door ,ha more like ran out the door. I cannot tell you what that is like to get out of a self imposed prison that I had made for myself. How do you explain you can't leave the house.?How do you explain why you are so afraid of people? When I tried my firends and people didn't get it. They thought I was a phsyco.One doctor told my husband to lock me away in a day hospital and give me valium. When the doctor tried to give them to me I took one and didn't like the way it made me feel. I threw them in the trash. When I went back to him he asked me what I had done with the valum. I told him I threw them in the trash and he accused me of dealing them or selling them. Needless to say I never saw him again and for a while I was too afraid to seek treatment.

I am no longer agoraphobic. I cry when I think of my life then and I can now pretty much go where i want. Its not without a racing heart,panic and uncertainty I face but I keep it together and if you met me you would never know I ever was like that.

I am still terrified of people. I am still scared of being in a crowd. With treatment I have been able to function as a human being.

I have stressed over and over the importance to treating everyone equal.I have tried to write for everyone to keep their opinions and feelings toward people to themselves or through blogging. Sticks and stones is a lie. Words can and do hurt you. I can't speculate the specific cause of the illness, I just couldn't take life anymore. Would you want to come out of your house if everywhere you went someone had something to say about your appearance or the way you talked, acted, etc.

Talk to people before you get this far. Do not be afraid to seek treatment because of the stigmatism that goes with it. If you need medication take it. NO one has to know. You never know what the person on the other side is facing.People who drink or have other vices often self medicate in order to hide from an illness. What does being mentally ill mean? When you can't get up and go to work and function anymore you have to seek treatment and get back on your feet. You can't just grab your boot straps and pull yourself up. People who try sometimes take their own lives.Depression is a real illness.It doesn't make you a sick person or a bad person or  a weak person!

It has taken a great deal of trust for me to let this secret out. I hope someone else who has not left their home in a longer time than I did will know they can beat it!