When I was just eight years old, I had my first panic attack. It happened in one of the happiest places a kid, let alone adult, could be: Disneyland. Not only was this a sudden shock to the end of one of the most fun days of my childhood, but it was during the fireworks, right there, in front of the castle, with the music and everything.

I remember just wanting to feel okay again. I wanted to feel like I could breathe. I remember looking at my joyful cousins and siblings, who were smiling in awe, and I just could not figure out why I was not able to experience that memorable moment in the same way. I couldn’t figure out the feeling that came over me. The fear.

Twenty years later, I now know that feeling all too well. I now know what causes these sudden panic modes: anxiety. Mental illness.

For a while, we could not tell what was wrong. I was a perfectly happy and bubbly kid. It would all just suddenly hit me. The feeling that clawed its way through my chest. Unwelcome. Unrecognizable. Unknown.

It got to the point where I fainted at 10-years-old. A call to 911 and a few tests later finally revealed it was not physical. It was mental. Of course, I didn’t understand all of this as a child.

Though, I never had it explained to me either. 

I wish someone would have spoken to me more in depth about it. Maybe they thought I couldn’t understand, or that it was better if I didn’t know. But I was the one going through this, shouldn’t I have been given the chance to understand as much as possible about my mental illness? Or that it was a mental illness in the first place?

I only really knew the words itself—panic attack. And I knew how a panic attack felt. And I knew all the advice: “it will pass,” “just remember to breathe,” “it’s all in your head.” However, that didn’t help.

But really, why did I have these sudden feelings–as if the world was ending? What caused them? How could I prevent them?

These were questions I had to answer for myself as I grew older.

No one should have to go through that. No one should have to figure that out alone.

People should—and need—to understand mental illness, whether they have one or not.

We need to continue to decrease the stigma around mental illness. We need to continue to talk about it. But we also must educate ourselves, others and our communities. Talking is not the only answer.

I believe the education should start young. Mental illness can become a part of your life at any age. It can leave, come back, leave again, or you may even have more than one mental illness at any time. That is life. It is being a human being. It does not make you anything less than human.

People from all ages and backgrounds need to have discussions and classes about mental illness and mental health in general. It should not be looked at negatively or fearfully. 

We have continued the conversation and lessened some of the stigma, but there is still room to grow. There always is.

Only 19 percent of the nation feels as if we are continuing to make progress toward mental illness.

Mental illness needs to be taken more seriously. For example, mental health days should be offered at every workplace or institution. 

And seeking help should be one of the first automatic responses because of the environment, views and education people will be subjected to if we all take these steps and act. Asking for help should not be seen as weakness.

Do not be afraid to share your experiences. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Give yourself a break when you need one. And most importantly, don’t give up.