I remember when people talked about depression and anxiety.

I felt a curious detachment. I felt sorry for them, of course. It wasn’t their fault, of course. But that wasn’t me, so well adjusted and so enthusiastic and so happy. Those words didn’t fit into my vocabulary. Everyone has bad days when they feel a bit sad or a bit tired or they don’t want to get out bed or they can’t get out of bed. But not in a bad way. Just normal. Just straightforward. Just simple.

Then it happened. I had an anxiety attack. My boyfriend took me to Adelaide for my birthday. I’d just launched a project on the Wednesday, and spent Thursday in a recording studio — something I had been so terrified and excited and worried about. But before I knew it, it was over and I was so buzzed. I had a flight at 9am, but I couldn’t sleep.

I got on the plane, fine. I got to the hotel, fine. But I felt a little off, a little odd. Something was making me nervous, or sick? Maybe food poisoning? That night we went to a fancy restaurant, and the waitress sat us at a table. She smiled politely, handing us the menus, and left to get water. My eyes were watering and I wondered if she noticed. My chest constricted. I looked around, and saw that everyone could see us, in the corner. That everyone could see how nervous I was. The noose tightened around my neck. My hands shook, at first a little bit, but then more, and more. I steadied them against my napkin, all of a sudden too white and too crisp. Had it always had such contrast, such blinding brightness? Had it always made me feel dizzy, the simple white of a napkin? I was hot, my shirt too tight, my throat thick and heavy. My chest felt like a weight was on it, slow molasses drowning me. I gripped the table, hard, waiting for the dizziness to pass. But it didn’t.

I excused myself. My boyfriend looked surprised, as I knocked the cutlery out of the way. I knew I was dying, suddenly. Not here, I thought. Not Adelaide. Of all the possible places, please, not Adelaide.

I rushed to the bathroom, locked myself in the stall and waited for my heart to stop racing. I waited for the momentary lapse in my sanity to lift, and my balance to return. I would step proudly back into that dining room, and catch the eyes of every diner, and they would see that I was a success. That everything I did was a success. That I was a winner.

But I couldn’t. I knelt beside the toilet, willing myself not to cry. I messaged my boyfriend, and said “I’m sorry, but we have to go.” I rushed outside as he, confused as I was, payed a fifth of the bill for our degustation menu. I felt such guilt, such a sense of betrayal. I had let him down, and I had let myself down. And what if something was truly wrong? Maybe I was broken in some secret, unfixable way? Maybe I would never get well? Was this who I was now? I choked back the panic as we retreated to the hotel.

The five days in Adelaide were hell, and not for the obvious reasons. Every trip, a trauma. Every winery, a thunderstorm inside. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly broken inside me, that I was coming apart at the seams. The crushing weight on my chest worsened, and I feared the worst.

But I couldn’t talk about it. I have a reputation, I thought, and a career. I have a life. I can’t be this person, anxious and afraid. A bomb waiting to go off. I make people laugh, and I sing to rooms of people I don’t know. No one would believe me, and worse, no one would believe in me.

Anxiety is something I have battled, and for the most part, something I have overcome. But it was not without a fight, and it is not without its scars. And it is not something that happens to people you don’t know. It’s happening to your friends, and your neighbours, and your boyfriends. But you are not alone. If you feel like you can’t manage, or you are struggling to breathe against that weight on your chest, please, reach out. Talk to your doctor, talk to a professional, just talk.

Because I remember when people talked about anxiety, before it happened to me.

If you’re struggling with anxiety or depression, Beyond Blue are super great, and have a bunch of resources available.