Anxiety can be a real bitch. You don't know when it's going to hit you or for what reason. I know I've actually suffered from it for a very long time but never had a name to it. Does that make it better maybe? I'm not sure. I'm not sure if addressing it head-on or letting it run its course is the better option. I've read a little bit recently about facing it and dealing with it as it hits you so that you can remind yourself that whatever that immediate danger your body and brain are trying to warn you about, most of the time it's not actual danger at all.
I think the earliest attack came around fifth or sixth grade, so I was probably 8-10, it was winter time and we were all bundled up at recess (because back then they still sent us out in the cold and snow!) and I remember wanting to avoid everyone, so went out into the middle of the field, plopped myself down, huddled with my hood over my head and stared at the snow. Or was it actually summer, and I was looking at flowers? I honestly don't recall for sure, but I remember not wanting to deal with anyone. It took a teacher coming over to me to haul me to my feet and take me back inside.
Spending a lot of time in the secretary's office, with a "stomach ache" was another favorite pastime.
Another was being JUST stubborn enough that I wasn't allowed to go out to recess and stuck in the library during lunchtime. Just me and the librarian, browsing books and looking outside and just being happy.
After researching anxiety in children over the years I can definitely see myself in almost all of the different clues that are now accepted as anxiety. But no one knew what that was, I was made fun of, I was more sensitive to all of that, I clung to adults who could give me solid answers and didn't judge, didn't give me trouble, and in this age, they would have gotten me into counseling. Not as if I didn't try to do it myself, but I was only allowed to go about once a month, and after elementary school, there wasn't anyone to go too.