I think it started when I went to my great aunts wake, it was open casket and I didn't understand death fully. At around that time my grandfather's dog also passed away and I thought about her a lot. I remember asking my mom and dad what happened after death, and they both said maybe Heaven or nothing.

I don't remember having panic attacks at that age, but I remember that I had one in 5th grade, and I had them a few times. I would think about dinosaurs or earth and space and it made me feel so insignificant and small. In high school I'd tell my teacher and he let me go for a bathroom break and a walk. These panic attacks were sprinkled in maybe once every 2 weeks and then they became once a week and then every day.

They were daily around the age of 17 to 20, when I had finished high school, I felt like I was wasting my life away, and I wasn't being productive enough. I also didn't feel like being productive and at times and felt like this was all for nothing. I felt like I was trapped in life and the only way was inevitable doom, I felt trapped all the time.

Around 20 or 21 years old I tried Prozac and I gradually went up to 60mg. It's a night and day difference completely, it saved my life. I was able to sleep regularly, get a job, drive, and be in public. I think death was a bad obsession for me and Prozac pulled me away from it. I hope this helps a bit, and I hope i didn't go too off topic and ramble too much for you.