Hi myself,

I think I understand what your saying.

For me, I have always managed to take my attacks alone; maybe it's a 'man' thing, I don't know.

If I am with someone I make a quick excuse and get into the street, or go into my room. I often end up in alleyways for some reason.

I don't know why, but when I am in that state being with someone else is worse than useless. I don't like people seeing me in that situation so I get clear of them.

My first attack happened in an exam room. I left the exam room and asked the nurse lady for an aspirin. I didn't know what the hell was happening to me. While her back was turned I sneaked out and got to the pavement before I was sick. I can't remember how I got home.

This is the strangest thing. When I got back near my parents house I didn't go into the house. Instead I went down to the fields where I used to hang out and squatted under a bush. I guess I was like a sick cat, hiding myself away from people.

When I felt a little better I went home, but I didn't say anything to my mother. Instinctively I knew that what I had was beyond her. Next day I went to the doctor, again without telling, and he said that I was 'histrionic'. That was when hell began for me.

It's been a long haul, 40 years since that first one, and I still take my attacks the same way.

Good thoughts, M

PS - Good grief, maybe I should be celebrating the anniversaries! LOL