What do fears feel like? Two teenagers tell us

«It was sheer horror»

Elena, 14, was five years old when she was gripped by anxiety. She attended play therapy for a long time. With success: today she is doing well, the memory is fading. However, her mother Simone still remembers the time when she had to force her daughter to go to nursery school.

Elena: As far as I know, I was afraid of vomiting. When I felt slightly sick, I would say: I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick. Then I got worse and worse. Simone: It started on 6 December 2009 when we went into the wet and dark forest to look for Father Christmas. We just couldn't find him. So my husband and I decided to look for him separately. Elena panicked because the family was no longer together. Thanks to the mobile phone, we finally found Samichlous, after which we went to a friend's house for soup. Elena had to vomit. Not because of the Samichlous, more because of too much chocolate. From then on, she had this fear of vomiting. She no longer wanted to go anywhere or have anyone at home with her.

Elena: I remember that my grandmother once wanted to take me to kindergarten. I held on to the pillar in the living room and refused to put my shoes on.

Simone: Nothing worked any more. Elena didn't want to go to nursery school or anywhere else. A psychologist friend said: «The anxiety won't go away if you wait and see.» We first checked with the doctor to see if there was a medical problem. That was stressful too: we had to «fiddle» Elena behind the sofa, get her dressed in pairs and heave her into the car, where she climbed into the back of the boot like a wild animal. Out of sheer panic. The doctor said: "Nothing needs to be investigated. Elena needs psychological support.

Elena: I went to a psychologist, always on Wednesday afternoons. In the first hour we talked, then we played games and did arts and crafts. Once I drew myself a place to think about when I wasn't feeling well: a jungle, a waterfall and rocks all around. I also had two guardian animals: the eagle and the cheetah.

Simone: We agreed on a training programme. At first, we carried her to nursery school together. That was sheer horror for me and my husband. When we released her fingers from the column and she screamed, I hoped in my heart that it was okay how we were acting. According to maternal instinct, you just don't do that, it's abusive. But we knew from the experts that it was the right thing to do. In kindergarten, I stayed with her for a long time at first. We always reduced the time until I left and worked with positive reinforcers: if she stayed, we gave her a sticky note.

Elena: On the tenth Kleberli I got a sneaky animal or something. It got better quickly. I stopped the therapy at the end of year one. I then had to change classrooms and teachers for year three. I didn't want to go to school any more. So I went back to the psychologist. Simone: Difficult phases were always triggered by changes. But it wasn't as dramatic as it was at the beginning. I was able to accompany her to school on my own. Her grandmother was always waiting at the corner of the house in case I couldn't cope.

Elena: Then, in fourth grade, I realised that I'd rather take off on Wednesday afternoons than go to therapy. From then on, I felt better. When I think back today, it's funny. It wasn't bad at all. Simone: It was bad for me. Elena's anxiety triggered a lot. The despair you feel as parents and have to share as a couple. It's not easy. I also sought help at the time to deal with it.

Elena: I still get scared sometimes. I still get anxious easily, but probably no more than others my age. And if I had to vomit, it would be unpleasant. But I can run to the toilet.

«I ran out of history class»

Mike, 11, is afraid of guillotines. He has been living with the fear of the 18th century beheading devices for six years now. Talking about it doesn't scare him - as long as the term isn't used.

"It happened in an animated film: you saw something go up, then fall down, then someone screaming. I didn't see the thing. But it had probably already crept into my subconscious. Since then, just hearing the word is enough. Then something is no longer normal for me.

It's like a shock. I duck, sometimes I run away, sometimes I don't move at all. I start to tremble, get restless, break out in a sweat and close my eyes and ears. My heart beats faster.

At school, we once went through the history of the car. When the 18th century was mentioned, I was scared because suddenly something could be said about the French Revolution. Even when we read a book aloud in class, I'm afraid that the thing will come up. Sometimes I read through the book on my own beforehand, so I'm prepared. If I read the word myself, it doesn't bother me. I'm afraid when someone else says it. Then there's this uncertainty: I don't know what's coming.

Wherever it might appear, I pay attention. I go to the toilet for trailers at the cinema. In the theatre, I once said I had a bladder infection. When I see adverts on the internet, I keep my finger ready to push the window away if necessary. It's always dangerous when the 18th century is mentioned.

I was lucky with a documentary about the Bible. It went straight back from the 20th century to the 15th century. This thing didn't exist back then. And after the Second World War it was abolished everywhere except in France. I inform myself so that I know when to pay attention.

When the teacher asked, I claimed I had a headache

My colleagues are half aware of my anxiety. They just overheard me having a fit once when I ran out of the classroom in history class. The teacher asked me what was wrong. 'Headache', I replied. I didn't dare say it. Mummy then explained it to the teacher. Now I'm allowed to call in when I want to go out.

The only other thing I'm scared of is spiders. But you can only say 'a bit scared'. Ah - and on a ship at sea: a tornado could suck me up. So I don't really need to go on a cruise. And I never sleep in the dark. I switch my room lamp to blue at night. Then it works. I was ashamed of that.

But then I realised that someone in the class was scared too. When he was once afraid of thunder, I said: 'It's all right. Nothing can happen to you'. So we started talking about our fears.

I want to help when someone is scared. I know what it's like myself. My colleagues help me too. When they realised I was getting scared during the country school week, they said: 'If it gets bad, we'll come out with you'."