While it was never diagnosed, I fully believed that I was suffering from insomnia and I still believe that to this day. .
My situation became worse towards the end of my junior year of high school. That first night of my sleeping problems is my definition of a bad dream, but the night of my first panic attack is my definition of a nightmare. I woke with a jolt and sat up. Something wasn't right. My ears were ringing. It sounded as if a thousand high pitched whistles were being blown simultaneously. Then I heard a distant pounding. It sounded as if someone was pounding on wood with a hammer. The pounding became louder as did the ringing. My breaths were coming in fast, quick, puffs. I tried to take a deep breath but failed, tried to control them but couldn't. It felt as though someone was standing on my rib cage, leaving me gasping for air. I started to shake. First just my hands, then my arms and legs, until finally my entire body. Suddenly, I felt like the walls .
were closing in on me, trying to suffocate me. I felt paranoid. My head began to spin. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until my entire room was a blur. I laid back down thinking the spinning would stop but it only got worse. It felt as if I had been thrown into a washing machine that had been set on spin. My thoughts began to race. What was wrong with me? What was happening? If this spinning and shaking and pounding and ringing kept up, could I die? When would it stop? For that matter, how did it start? Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, the spinning slowly came to a stop. Soon after, the ringing and pounding stopped as well. My breathing slowed down until all that's left of whatever had just happened was shaking. I sat up again, turn on the light, and burst into tears. .
After my little "episode" my sleeping problems progressed, but this time I brought them on myself. I did anything I could to stay awake.