Once upon a time ...

But seriously.

This is a real story that will hopefully clear things up for anyone who's wondering what it's like to have this phobia.

It was a school morning. I was sitting in the living room when one of my little brothers came down and curled up in my mom's recliner. No one made a sound as we all tried to wake up in the dim light.

After a few minutes, however, my brother began to stir. Since it was quiet otherwise, my focus naturally turned to him. Out of the blue he made some awful gutteral sounds, and just as my sleepy brain processed the situation he threw up.

My heart practically burst into flames from the flood of adrenaline and cortisol. I shot up out of my chair and ran to the next room over, fingers pressed hard against my ears. The bright light on the kitchen ceiling pierced through my closed eyelids as I dove headfirst into a panic attack, sobbing, shaking, screaming for my mom ...

And, honestly that's where the memory ends. Well, except for the "What the heck?!!" from my mom when she finally found me (as if I was overreacting ...)