Hello, my name is Cristina, and I'm an autistic young woman suffering from anxiety. I have had episodes of anxiety when I was younger, but I was totally fine because the problem was quickly addressed with medication, particularly Prozac. These past four months, however, have been a completely different story. My anxiety has been sent sky high by the fact that I'm transferring to a four-year university from community college, learning to drive, and taking care of my stroke-afflicted mom. On top of that, I've been trying to achieve the same level of social independence as my neurotypical brother, who is going to a medical school two hours away from home. It all started a week before the semester began in late August, when I was lying awake in bed in the early morning hours trying to figure out why I'm experiencing weird twitching sensations in my legs only to have a bad burn across my chest in the process. The first day of classes, my doctor prescribed me Prozac for the third time, but it didn't provide me the same relief it did during my teenage years. Instead, it made me stay awake all hours of the night for a week, so I stopped it. I was okay for a while, but then in October, I had a nasty panic attack where my chest was pinching so bad I thought I was going to die. The next day, my doctor prescribed BuSpar (buspirone), the mildest anti-anxiety medication on the market. He told me to take one 10mg tablet twice a day, but my stepdad, who is a pharmacist, said to take one half tablet (5mg) three times a day. Since then, I've had pins and needles, which frustrated the hell out of me but have waned within weeks as my body adjusted to the medication. My first semester at my new school is over, but I'm still having acute chest pains, muscle aches, and at the moment, pain in my right elbow. No matter what I do to get rid of my anxiety--yoga, deep-breathing, aromatherapy, physical exercise, etc.--I can't seem to stop thinking that I'm going to die before I reach 30. I want the old me back--the one who would always daydream the most whimsical daydreams, speak her mind about issues that matter to her most, and who does whatever she puts her mind to. Only when I get back to the girl I used to be can I truly be happy again.