Since I’m overweight I tend to sweat a lot in public and it’s embarassing. The crap thing is the more I sweat, the more self conscious I become about it which leads to more sweating. Sometimes I just can’t stop this cycle and it becomes worse and worse. I was in the mall once to buy cheesy snacks and I was aware that I was sweating and out of breath.

At this point the first bead of sweat fell from my brow onto the ground like a raindrop. I was horrified. From then on the sweat just wouldn’t stop pouring out of me so I tried to keep calm by just standing still. It didn’t work. The sweating become more and more noticeable and people were stopping with their carts, pointing at me. Some were laughing, some had vague looks of disbelief on their faces.

Still it wouldn’t stop. It got so bad that people were beginning to slip in my pools of sweat on their way down the aisle. I wanted to run but I couldn’t move. I was forced into moving when I clerk approached me with a mop and began cleaning up the floor. Since then I haven’t been back to the store at all.

When I’m out these days and I’m travelling somewhere I pray for rain. At least then I have an excuse for all of the sweating. It makes my life that little bit easier.

I’ve had a number of panic attacks in public. I’ll feel like I’m dying and I’ll invariably want to run for the hills. Most of the time I’ll just head for the restrooms and flush my head down there until I’ve come to my senses.

Anything can trigger a panic attack for me. Most commonly it’s my fear of farting in public. My bowels will clench together to signal a diahorrea attack is imminent and I’ll be terrified of soiling my underwear on the spot.  It’s a horrific sensation. If I’m with a group of friends I’ll sit very still, trying to avoid all eye contact.

When I’m on the verge of a panic attack, the last thing I need is for someone to stare me in the eyes because it’s as if they can read my soul. It’s as if they know that I’m on the verge of emitting ungodly sounds from my rectum.

Flushing my head down the toilet makes me feel alive. If I have a panic attack in a place without toilets (like a car) it becomes a thousand times worse. There was one time I was driving with a friend down the freeway and I felt the usual rumbling in my guts.

I knew that I had to go to the toilet but the traffic was backed up so far that I knew we’d have no chance of reaching the restroom in time. Instead I got out of the car, crossed a few lanes of traffic and took a dump by the road side. Unfortunately the wind was blowing in the wrong direction and I got shit in my shoes and all down the back of my legs.

Since then word has got around about this and I’ve become a social pariah in my town. When my boss smelt me that day I was fired on the spot and I’ve been unemployed ever since.