I have an invisible health condition that is not often talked about.

This is the first time that สมัครสล็อต I am describing my issue, which is deeply personal and has remained hidden from many of my friends and colleagues for years.

But the truth is that for much of my life I did not know that I had the condition or what it was called.

Now I recognise that after having lived through the genocide as a child growing up in Rwanda as well as other troubling events, I have post-traumatic stress disorder, also known as PTSD.

It triggers panic attacks that can come at any time and which leave me struggling to breathe. I am usually covered in a thin layer of cold sweat when they subside, as I fight to get back to my "normal" self.

Looking back, I was your regular happy child, growing up in the 1980s initially in a small but supportive family in Rwanda's capital, Kigali.

Essentially, it was myself, my mother and my little brother, Junior.

But this little angel would not live to see his first birthday, and his death, when I was around the age of two, from a severe coughing illness would be my first real sense of loss.

I could not comprehend the emptiness I felt, because I was a child myself, but over time I have come to see this as the possible start of my journey, the genesis of my PTSD.

The second gut-wrenching event came when I lost my mother to illness, two months before I turned 10.

I can still remember being in bed with her in the hospital, wanting to be close to her because I loved the way she smelt of sunshine. But when I touched her skin it was very dry. It was like there was nothing left of her as she had lost so much weight.

After she died, my world as I had known it up to that point was over, but I did not grieve as I just had to get on with things. I moved in with my aunt - who I now call my mum - and five cousins, all of whom were very supportive.