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I truly believe that I was born a nervous patient. As I grew up with fear I cautiously watched others being happy. My fearful existence seemed to be forever with me, as a form of punishment that I never clearly understood.

What was my fear? It existed all day, every day. This fear kept me locked up in a web of imaginary terror. Whatever I would do—whether in school or at home—I feared that it was wrong. There was no self-reliance or trusting my basic functions. Afraid of doing or saying anything wrong, I developed a severe case of self-consciousness and began to stutter. I lived with mild agoraphobia as a child, watching out the windows and thinking about how terrible I was.

I barely survived postpartum depression in my early 20s. My illness continued to develop, peaking in my 40s. By that time, I was quite dysfunctional. It required many hours of prolonged agonized efforts to get out of bed. On the job, work became a blur, and intense palpitations darkened ordinary activities.

Twenty pounds slipped from my already slim frame. I cried most of the time. I was afraid of living. After a brief respite generated by therapy and medication, I had a second nervous breakdown. Suicidal, I was close to hospitalization when a friend took me to a Recovery, Inc. meeting.

I can clearly recall my first few meetings. My eyes remained downcast and I was not able to understand what was being said. My fears took over my ability to comprehend the readings or "spottings." Fearful, I tried hard to anticipate my part of the reading. I worried that my voice muscles would become numb and meaningless utterances, not words. It was torture. Yet, I managed to stay. I was desperate.

Many months passed before my symptoms mellowed. Sure, the old fears were with me. Yet, somehow they were not all that I focused on. I was tired of being sick and truly longed for peace of mind. So I practiced with ruthless determination. Weekly meetings and five-minute phone calls became my new way of life.

To me, it was amazing that one day—after so much "lip service"—I came to the realization that my symptoms were DISTRESSING, NOT DANGEROUS. Life gradually became more bearable. Now there were tools that I could use in my newly found life that allowed me the courage to do the things that I hated and FEARED to do!

Before Recovery, I FEARED:

DRIVING on parkways: Now I take four different ones just to get to dance classes!! I am capable. I trust myself.
HAVING SMALL DINNER PARTIES: I now know that I can be a good hostess. I now have self-satisfaction.
ADMITTING THAT I've made a mistake: Who wants to be like a machine? I am not perfect and no longer think of myself as exceptional.
SAYING "NO": I respect my limitations and have acquired humility.
DOING WHAT I WANT TO DO: My own inner approval means much more to me than what the outer environment thinks. That's a new freedom for me.
DISCOMFORT: Now I know that I can bear it. Comfort is a want, not a need.
THE SETBACK: It is inevitable and part of the illness. I am not to blame. What a good chance to practice.
FEAR no longer leads my life. I now make decisions on what is best for my mental health, for no other reason then it is my SUPREME goal.