Why did I not seek help for asthma as a kid?

Lately, I've been more open about my experiences with anxiety. I recognize that I'm not alone in facing the challenge of both asthma and anxiety, and by sharing my story, I hope to kickstart important conversations on this topic. Given that I've been transparent about my asthma for several years, it feels natural to extend that openness to my experiences with anxiety as well.

Several years ago I wrote about my "tough experience in a smoke filled room." And I wrote other similar stories about how I would suffer with asthma for hours, and sometimes days, before breaking down and telling my parents. And the'd rush me to the emergency room, where they'd have me breathing easy after shots of epinephrine and steroids. 

And, in response to one of these articles, one of my fellow asthma bloggers wrote something to the effect of, "What? How could you feel so miserable and not tell your parents? And how could your parents not recognize that their son was feeling so miserable?" 

At the time, my response was a simple," I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to bother my parent." 

Today, however, I seem to have a better understanding of why I failed to tell my parents. I admit now that I have anxiety. And that anxiety made me very self conscious and afraid to approach adults. And today I am aware that I have a specific type of anxiety called social anxiety disorder, perhaps even selective mutism. And this makes it so that, you feel so uncomfortable in certain situations that you do not talk. And this would explain why I never sought help even though I knew I should.