When I was 11 I began suffering from horrific panic attacks, as early as my first semester in sixth grade. My mother assumed I was nervous about a boy and didn’t think anything of it. Right….I was just throwing up every single morning as a result of these apparently harmless “butterflies”. It was “a pre-teen phase that (I) would soon grow out of,” she said. She was right. One day during the summer after sixth grade,

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