The first time I encountered a panic attack, I was about eight years old, utterly unaware of what was happening. My heart raced uncontrollably, my palms were sweaty, and the world felt like it was spiraling out of control. I couldn’t focus on anything—conversations, upcoming events, or even my own thoughts as they raced at lightning speed. It was a suffocating sense of rage and restlessness, as if I were trapped within myself, desperately trying to escape. And then, somehow, it would subside. I’d forget about it until it struck again, which fortunately wasn’t too frequent in my childhood. Back then, I had no terminology to describe these episodes, no means to articulate my experience.
In the midst of a panic attack, it feels like you’re facing death or losing your sanity. Breathing becomes laborious, dizziness sets in, and sensations of tingling and lightheadedness overwhelm you. Some experience a tightening in their chest, similar to a heart attack, while others face severe digestive disruptions—far beyond mere butterflies in the stomach. When I first dealt with these incidents, it was akin to living a nightmare, an intense fear I had never known.
I kept my struggles hidden, paralyzed by shame and fear. By the time I turned 16, panic attacks became a daily occurrence for me, driven largely by phobias surrounding travel and transportation. Initially, I feared flying, which thankfully didn’t come up often, but soon my anxiety expanded to trains and cars. The moment I became afraid of taking the bus to school, I knew I was losing control.
It took me more than a year to seek help. Although I was a teenager, I was still very much a child, lacking comprehension of my situation. Since turning 17, I’ve cycled through therapy, particularly cognitive behavioral therapy, for over a decade. Now, I understand what I’m experiencing. There are times when my panic attacks are severe and others when they’re nearly absent, but they remain a component of my identity.
One of the toughest aspects of panic attacks is the cyclical nature of fear. You start to dread not only the triggers but also the attacks themselves. You lie in wait for the next one to occur, panicking about the potential for panic. This can lead to a persistent feeling of being unhinged, continuously on edge, captives to your own thoughts and emotions.
Rationalizing your way out of a panic attack is futile. Anxiety feeds on itself, convincing you that more attacks will follow and that you are somehow broken or always destined to feel fear. Sometimes, you can silence those voices, but it’s nearly impossible to do it consistently. It’s alarmingly easy to fall into cycles of attacks that last days, weeks, or even months.
Reflecting on my life, I can pinpoint times when panic attacks were a daily struggle—often coinciding with periods of heightened stress, like my parents’ divorce, moving homes, financial troubles, or the traumatic experience of an unexpected pregnancy followed by a miscarriage. I wish I had treated myself with more compassion during those challenging times. I should have acknowledged that these were not easy moments and that perhaps I needed to slow down and set boundaries.
Those of us prone to panic attacks often struggle with slowing down and establishing limits. We tend to be people-pleasers and perfectionists—traits I recognize in myself. To navigate life as someone vulnerable to panic, I’ve learned the importance of self-care and self-protection. This means saying no to stressors when possible and acknowledging my limits. Understanding that my body processes stress differently has been crucial in managing my well-being.
Knowledge about panic attacks can be incredibly beneficial for those affected. They are a physiological response triggered by life events and distressing thoughts, but once they begin, they can take on a life of their own. During a panic attack, your body releases a surge of hormones, primarily adrenaline, the same hormone that would surge in a life-or-death scenario, like encountering a lion. Unfortunately, in everyday life, there’s often nowhere to escape, leaving you to grapple with the adrenaline coursing through you.
It’s essential to remember that panic attacks have a beginning, middle, and end. Keeping this in mind during an episode can be grounding, even when it feels like the panic will never relent. If you can identify the onset of an attack, you may be able to halt it. For me, shallow breathing and a racing heartbeat signal that trouble is looming. If I take deep, intentional breaths right away, I sometimes manage to fend off an attack.
Although I don’t always succeed, I’m grateful for those moments when I do. My most important piece of advice to anyone struggling with panic attacks is to seek help. A professional, well-versed in the complexities of anxiety and panic disorders, can be invaluable. Medication, therapies, and systems designed for panic disorder can all provide relief. While alternative therapies can also be beneficial, it’s crucial to find someone knowledgeable about this specific struggle when you’re in crisis.
Above all, remember that you are not alone. You are not losing your mind, nor are you inadequate. You may simply be more sensitive than some, and that vulnerability often accompanies strengths like empathy, creativity, and a strong drive for success. Panic attacks don’t have to define your existence. You deserve to feel better, and pathways toward healing are available.
For more resources on managing your journey, consider checking out this helpful article.
Summary
Panic attacks can feel overwhelmingly frightening and isolating, especially when they begin in childhood and escalate during stressful life events. Understanding panic attacks as a physiological response and learning coping strategies is vital. Seeking professional help and practicing self-care are essential steps in managing the impact of panic attacks. Remember, you are not alone in this experience.