DON'T PANIC

DUDE... it's the ultimate Guide reference. That no one gets.
Welcome to my life.
So. Here's a good story.
Since I started pointe up here, I've been having breathing issues. Now, I've never really been able to run or do super intense exercise because I would always start hyperventilating and have to stop. This is nothing new. I just assumed that I had crappy endurance/lung capacity/that it was my own fault. That's why I never really run... ever. Dance never really been a problem, since it's not straight up cardio, just more about holding your muscles properly and pushing your strength/flexibiltiy limits. But I don't need to go into that, it's unnecessary. After I really started ballet, however, I'd run into these situations where I am doing something fast or difficult, and, without realizing it, I start crying. My thought process goes like this: (insert rapid listing off of French ballet steps, counting, ect.) Hey... I'm crying? Why am I crying? That's odd, considering that I'm not overwhelmed/frustrated, which are the actual causes of crying, not sadness. I'm not sad either, though. Oh, wait. I'm not getting oxygen. Whoops. Then I have to go off in a corner and wait until I can catch my breath again, which involves lots of water and more hyperventilating... It looks like I'm about to die, but in reality it's not that bad.
So this has been happening for a few years now, and lately it's gotten worse. Am I afraid for my life? No. I'm fine. But if you know me at all, you'll realize that when I'm prevented from doing something full out, to the best of my ability, I get slightly... annoyed. Especially when it's something I love. So after a particularly bad episode a few weeks ago, with my dance teacher getting extremely worried about me (see, I know I won't collapse, but everyone else seems to think I'm going to faint one of these times; It would be suitably dramatic... but me lying like a road block in the middle of the piece might ruin the flow of the dance) we scheduled an appointment with my doctor, which was last Tuesday.
I had some tests done, including this extremely awesome echocardiogram (sp?) where I could see my heart (because I love that kind of crap). In fact, my doctor doesn't think there's anything medically wrong with me... I'm supposed to be wheezing and coughing if I have athsma, apparently. Now, this is the good part of the story; the whole preceding rant was just an introduction to the diagnosis. I, my doctor believes, am having panic attacks.
Probably because I'm such a delicate and skittish person.
In fact, when I am dancing and realize, that, naturally, I'm short of breath, I panic. And stop breathing, because that is a very logical and practical approach to handling the situation. Perhaps I also do things like throw newspaper into fires I'm supposed to be putting out. Or, maybe, if someone is trying to drown me, I solve the problem by inhaling the surrounding water.
My treatment: a book that will teach me various relaxation techniques.
And you know what, if this works, I will be absolutely thrilled. If this helps, I want to be having panic attacs because then they. Will. STOP.
Just, in the future, don't startle me; I might panic and try to strangle myself.

L