Member-only story
The Play-by-Play of a Panic Attack
A first-person look at what happens in the brain and body when panic sets in
I’ve had panic attacks since I was 11 years old. I vividly remember the first one. I was in New York City for the first time, eating dinner with my grandparents at a Greek restaurant near Times Square. I was struggling to eat, overwhelmed by sensory stimulation. My grandfather was gruffly insisting I eat more, frustrated that I was not enjoying such an expensive meal. I was sweating, fidgeting, shaking, and nauseous. I felt unwillingly thrown into the ring with this beast of a meal—delicious, but excruciating.
Then the lava cake came. Every bite was richer and more difficult to swallow. I’d never felt more disgusting. A wave of electricity came over my body. I lost all visual clarity and was left with only a sense of colors and blinding lights. I desperately needed to escape.
I rushed to the restroom, hyperventilating and violently shaking. The floor was bright-white tile. The stalls were gray. It was tidy and smelled of cleaning products. I entered the accessible stall, undressed, and sat there terrified. Is this a seizure? Am I going to throw up? Explode? Die? After a minute or so, a woman entered the stall beside mine. I can imagine my episode was loud; she asked if I needed help.
