Ending the Year with the Best Panic Attack I’ve Ever Had

Notice: In this piece I give a play-by-play of a panic attack. If you might find some of the details of panic attack triggering, you might want to pass on reading this one. Also, the coping mechanisms I mention are things that work well for me and might not work for you. Work with your doctor or therapist to find what works for you.

On New Year’s Eve, I had a panic attack.

My mood usually drops at the end of the year. I bog myself down by ruminating on all the things I had hoped to do and accomplish that didn’t come to fruition. It becomes a blame-game of “I can’t believe I failed and wasted all this time. I am a failure.” This year I wanted to be intentional about fighting this pattern so I started the day with a coffee and my journal and started writing down any and every accomplishment I made in the past year. I also listed some of the hardest parts of the year and focused on what each event had taught me. I’ve found that there is so much power in changing the narrative from one of complaining that xyz happened to, “From xyz, I learned that…”

I left the coffee shop emotionally worn-out, but feeling really good about my year.

Later that afternoon, the signs of the impending panic attack began, albeit unbeknownst to me. I was on the couch, trying to fill empty thought space with my computer. I scrolled through Facebook, tried to find the bottom of my Pinterest feed, checked each one of my email accounts four times, read design articles, and flipped through my friends’ 2018 highlight-reel on their Insta-stories.

As I cycled through these sites, I began to lose my ability to take in the information. As I scrolled I kept trying to read what was on my screen, but it’s like it was another language—just shapes with no meaning. I got more and more frustrated as I tried to find any word or photo that I could understand.

Then came the sensory overload. I became acutely aware of every sound around me. The variety of sound textures became overwhelming. The bassiness of the movie on the tv, the crunch of chips, the metal gate opening and closing, the dog tearing at some fabric—I felt like a tv losing signal and falling into static.

The static became louder and louder and my chest began to feel tight. I knew I needed to get a safe place as soon as I could.

I managed to tell my roommate in a loosly-assembled sentence that I was having a panic attack and needed to be alone. It was so hard to talk. All I could get out were a few, short, basic words—and even that was exhausting. I saw my roommate walking towards me with a sympathetic and concerned hand and barked “No touch!” All my senses were incredibly heightened and I was scared that anything else touching me would cause me to pass out.

I shakily made it up the stairs to my dark room and shut the door. I got my small tub of TheraPutty and tried to open it. I had lost my dexterity and had to open it with two weak fists. I fell on my back and told Alexa to play music by Tycho (Tycho makes organic, atmospheric sounding music with no words).

I closed my eyes, and took slow, deep breaths while listening to the music. I moulded and squeezed and stretched my TheraPutty as I regained more control over my hands. I continued until I felt that I had caught my breath and calmed down, and then I texted my roommate that I was safe.

I was exhausted. My body felt like I had just run three marathons. I drew a hot bath with epsom salt (good for sore muscles) and essential oils, lit one of my favorite candles, and poured myself a glass of water.

After coming down from this episode, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. I’ve had panic attacks before that I had treated with self-harm and left me with scars and shame. But this one, man, I’m proud of myself! This is the result I’ve been working so hard for. Years of therapy coming up with healthy coping mechanisms that worked well for me had paid off.

I came downstairs emotionally drained but with a big smile. I did so well!

I turned on the tv, snuggled with the pup, and fell asleep by 10. No New Year’s fanfare for me, but I left 2018 feeling proud of how much I’ve grown and full of hope.

I recently made a pin to remind me during these times that I will be okay. You can get one too here!