lions in her heart, a fire in her soul

Anxiety attacks - when you feel as if you're literally dying or going mad, or both, for no good reason. You can't breathe, can't think, and your heart is about to explode. I had attacks like these for a while last winter. Next to the death of my father, they were by far the worst experience I've ever had.

The strange thing about this crisis is that it brought a lot of things to my life, all of them good. I eat healthier food, exercise more, try to avoid stress, allow myself good things. But of all these necessary life changes, two stand out as by far the most effective:

1. I'm more open towards my friends. I ask for their help instead of stubbornly try to cope on my own. I share my weaknesses and get involved in their lives. I also went to therapy sessions with a professional. As a result, when I'm cold and lonely and panic is pressing in, the support of others is like a warm blanket to wrap myself in.

2. I realised, with the help of my therapist, that I set impossibly high standards for myself. This makes me harsh and judgemental towards myself, which creates stress that brought on the anxiety. I'm learning to be merciful. To change my negative self-talk to encouragement and kindness. To allow myself rest and recreation when I need it. To not conquer all the world in one week.

Now, six months later, I feel OK. I'm still taking the antidepressants a doctor prescribed when I begged for help but I will try weaning myself off them soon. Occasionally, very rarely now, I feel as if another attack might be lurking in the shadows but that I will be able to deal with it.

I know that I'm skirting dangerously close to burnout and exhaustion and that I must be careful not to burn my candle at both ends. I never even realised that this is what I do - I see myself as a laid-back, almost lazy person. But constant, negative self-criticism, fretting about all those dreams not yet fulfilled, and filling my waking time with information overload from social media - this can break me sooner than I thought.

I'm learning to listen to my body and my mind and give them what they need.