A month ago seemingly out of nowhere I was hit over the head with the anxiety board. There were nails in it. They hurt. They got stuck in my brain and one month later I'm still pulling nails out. I have been  a survivor of PTSD, drug addiction and ongoing mental health issues so it is no surprise that I have anxiety when it comes to social settings. The difference is that years ago I still had the power to hide behind a mask. Nowadays I have been so debilitated by my disorder that I am to shaky to hold a mask up to my face. I finally have nowhere to run and no place to hide. So a month ago when this anxiety attack hit me I discovered that I had long ago lost the ability to put up a brave front. I am on methadone by the way and I was standing in line to get my medication. Every inch forward the snake of a line inched I felt my anxiety creep that much closer to my master control panel in my brain. Inching along I felt everyone staring at me. Anxiety has a way of making me feel like I am at the center of the universe and all eyes of the entire universe are on ME! This irrational thought that I am the center of the universe caused an emotional reaction of FEAR. Fear of rejection when they discover I am not the big beautiful star that gives life and light to entire solar systems and beyond. This kind of fear hinges on the thought that if anyone ever knew who I really am I would be locked up on death row and hated for eternity. Deep down I harbor these feelings of shame that make any charming quality I exhibit part of a fraud to make people like me. It is no wonder with feelings of shame and fear so entrenched in me that I  react with anxiety when I am in a crowd of other people who could possible discover me for who I am. As I got closer to the front of the line the fear inched up the thermometer too. By the time I was in first place my hands were violently shaking. I have had shaky hands before but this kind of shaking defies explanation, defies gravity even. I was horrified as I looked down at my hands. MY hands looked like they were gesturing wildly as I articulated some impassioned ideas. However I had no passionate argument to give, I had nothing to give. I wanted nothing but for my hands to quiet down so that I could hold the cup of methadone and drink it. By the time I was at the window it seemed this one little pathetic wish would not be granted. By now my arms were shaking and when I saw my arms shaking my legs started shaking and then my torso and then my head and then my EYES! Yes even my vision was bouncing back and forth like the devil was playing catch with the devil's spawn using my eyeballs. And after all of this shaking my voice started shaking until it went away. By then I was unable to breathe. In the middle of this I spilled about 3/4s of the methadone and then walked away with my head down. I had truly reached rock bottom. Though I had 2 years sober, I felt lower than low. This new low based on the realization that not only am I on methadone but also now I am unable physically and mentally to swallow a cup of methadone. It is now one month later and I have worked through these issues to the point where today I went to the clinic and took my dose and walked away a little shaky but not debilitatingly so. I am starting this blog to spread the word to anxiety sufferers everywhere that there is a way out, a way through, a way over, a way around and then a way BEYOND the struggle to get through a day when your day revolves around managing anxiety disorder symptoms. I will offer what has worked for me over the years and recently. It is a personal journey; what works for me may have no use for someone else. But I do know that compared to a month ago, the status of my anxiety is like night and day. At my lowest point I thought I'd have to resort to getting a script for clonopin. But that didn't happen and that doesn't have to happen for me. I hope I can help others feel less alone and maybe offer some helpful hints on coping strategies. Take care and I will keep in touch….fearfully fearless, jenji powa