My toes start tingling. I become hyper aware of my breath. Is my heart beating quicker? The pins and needles start in my feet. Now it’s in my legs, my arms, my face. Is everybody else noticing this? Do I look weird? I feel like I need to jump up, jump out of my skin. I need to go. But where? Am I having a stroke? Am I going to pass out? Should I call 911? No, I’m ok. No, I’m not ok. I’m not ok. I am not okay.
I need to find my breath. I excuse myself to the bathroom. I splash some cold water on my face. I do some jumping jacks to get the stagnant energy coursing through my veins out. I look at myself in the mirror. I find my reality. Ok, I’m back. Phew, that was a close one. I almost had a panic attack.
I am one of the oh-so-common unsuspecting victims of anxiety. It’s rare…but it’s there. I come from a family steeped in anxiety. I’m one of the lucky ones that experiences it every so often…or after I’ve overdone it on the coffee. I can usually breathe, distract, or exercise my way out of it. But every now and again, the inner chaos trumps the calm and the panic is all-encompassing. It’s amazing how you can go from not noticing the subtle beats of a relaxed pulse to the thumping of a heart on the verge.
But what might be worse than a panic attack itself…is the aftermath of one, the anxiety that creeps behind it like a thief in the night looking to mug you of any feelings of content. You become hyper aware that another one might strike, and that anticipatory anxiety is almost worse than the attack itself. Your throat feels a little narrower, you can’t focus and disassociate if you’re not actively keeping your feet grounded in reality.
People who have anxiety get it. People who don’t do not. They might try. They might offer comfort but it’s one of those things that you cannot grasp if you haven’t been face-to-face with pure, unadulterated panic yourself. But as with anything, time moves forward and as the days pass from your last panic attack, you forget the cold, clammy palms of it all. You forget the way your brain goes into overdrive with the helpless feeling that something is happening, and you cannot get it to stop. You can’t slow down. You forget the shame associated with feeling anxiety around friends, perhaps having to leave an event or get together because you can’t get a handle on yourself.
You forget.
And then it happens again.
And you quickly remember.
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