I had a major anxiety attack yesterday.

It's been a while since I experienced an anxiety attack - like a real one. The kind where your chest feels heavy, you can feel your heart beating hard against your chest, everything is hazy and flecked with gray, and you're gasping for breath.

Syrena was downstairs in her online class and I didn't want to disturb her. I didn't want her to know that I was suffering. Tears fell as I closed my eyes and prayed. And cried. And prayed.

20 minutes feel like an eternity when you experience an anxiety attack and when it's done, you don't feel relieved. You get anxious again. You worry that another attack will happen and you worry that next time, it'll be worse.

You scour your medicine boxes and hope you have something to calm you down. And when you find the right one, you worry that it's too early to take it and that taking it will knock you out for the rest of the day.

Of course, that can't happen. You have a child who depends on you. You have meals to prepare. You have homework to check. You have a dog to feed. You have a home to clean. You have work to finish. Deadlines to meet.

So you suffer through it. And you survive.

Not a lot of people talk about how difficult it is to be mentally unwell. While I haven't had episodes like these too often since we moved to our own place, I've realized that they're much harder to deal with now. Because I have been so at peace, I no longer know what to do when I'm not.

I couldn't even bring myself to talk to people. Because no words were coming out of my mouth. I spent the entire day in silence, staring at walls, at random items in the house. Syrena asked if I was okay and I admitted that I wasn't. But that I would be. Eventually. Hopefully.

As my mind reeled about the uncertainty of our future (long story short: I lost a job that made up a humongous chunk of my livelihood), only two people came to mind who could really help. Both lead very hectic lives and I wasn't expecting to hear back from them. But one came through for me.

And as I panicked and released all of my pent-up emotions, he stayed calm and reminded me who I am and what I can do; and sometimes, that's all you really need in life: someone who believes in you when you don't. Someone who sees the greatness you have to offer when you've forgotten it. Someone you would trust with your life.

Find that person. Preferably a few, if you can. And then pull yourself out of that funk and reach out. Reach. Out. You can't do this alone. And that's okay. Reaching out doesn't make you weak. It's a necessity to ensure that you make it through. And that's all that matters.