Ever had a real panic attack?

I don’t mean your “can’t find my keys” nervous for a half minute episode.

Nay, sir. The bad ones are so bad that I just wanna take this moment to be grateful for every moment I’m not having one. And, obviously, spend some’a those moments researching prevention and cures for these sneaky body snatching bastards. For those who get eye-rolly when they hear about these things, I totally get it. Because it seems like something that entirely happens in your brain because you’re just too lazy or shitty of a person to stop it. And while you’re not 100% wrong, you ‘re not 100% right either. So I’ll try my best to walk you through what it’s like, given the fact I just had a bad one the other night and the most I could do was try and remain aware of what was happening in my body as it tsunami’d its way through me.

My first inclination is to describe it like the spiritual equivalent of a kidney stone – it starts deep and intrinsically – this unignorable sense of dread. A slew of spasms from deep within slowly radiate outward, imbuing all tissue it passes with the gift of agonal contractions, like some sadistic invisible Santa Clause. For those who’ve never had kidney stones, this might be a better analogy: remember how in Harry Potter Ron says he has a feeling like he’ll “never be cheerful again” after the death eaters come? They kind of suck the souls out? It’s kind of like that except far less pleasant.


Yes, my friend! That’s closer! (And they said doctors can’t empathize.)

Alongside these involuntary spasms comes this feeling like acid running down the inside of my chest right into the area underneath my rib cage. (If I had a heart, I assume this is where it would live.) Then, it settles there –but not for long before morphing into a fist with brass knuckles equipped with Wolverine knives. This fist becomes a resonant theme through the whole experience – constantly pulsing something that feels like the perfect antithesis of a healing heartbeat. Suddenly, it grips the heart you didn’t think you had in its icy claws.

And then it squeezes down.

And then it slowly turns.

Twists.

Mind you, however dramatic it sounds, this process and description aren’t some collective metaphorical prosaic hyperbole. Not when it’s happening. When it’s going down, this heart-twist literally feels like it’s actually happening, because the entirety of your insides – every organ – suddenly twists with it. Suddenly, normal autonomic functions you normally needn’t process stepwise – like breathing – become Greek and rocket science all at once. “How did I ever manage to convert oxygen to carbon dioxide without gasping?” you wonder, “Especially when life is so meaningless and I’m so terrible at what I do? And we’re all going to die anyway?” and then you try to bring some awareness to it: “No, mustn’t think of that. That’s not helpful…”

But it’s too late. Your airway has already constricted into the diameter of a coffee stirring straw like a snake feeding off your fear. Without proper oxygen getting to your brain, all logical thought stops. Escape seems the only possible option. And you would seek it through any means necessary – if you could stand. Instead, however, you are now coming to understand that your various body parts have transmogrified from sentient flesh into no more than dermal coated slabs reverberating anxiety. Your hands are buzzing – vibrating like two agonal guitar strings playing the most hopeless chord in the world. Then, you notice that the effect is a domino one – traveling up your arms into your empty twisting still fist-gripped chest chasm. And now this pulsing pain wave is heading into your face. So, instead you just lay there. The fetal position seems optimal in this situation. And although you’re operating on autopilot, the underlying motive is a strong belief that maybe if you close in tightly enough on yourself, you can escape the entire world through the vast black hole that’s taken up residence center of your being.

And eventually it passes.

And equilibrium is restored.

And the sun shines.

You get mad at yourself for not being able to control it. For me, this event is a purely biological thing once it takes me over. I can think my way out of a lot of things, but I can’t think my way out of this monstrous spectacle that overcomes my body. That’s terrifying. But I say “once” it takes me over because there is (usually but not always) a series of moments preceding that “point of no return” time where I can stop the thoughts – by not indulging them. This is harder than it sounds – ignoring a nagging thought. But during your stay here in Ashley’sPants, you’re encouraged to look for solutions – not excuses to wallow. So we’ll seek out the best workarounds.

That’s why I’ve been looking over some prevention/management combos for how to deal.

And listed a few of them here in case any’a you’z guys also silently suffering are interested too:

BREATHE.

This is the first rule of fight-or-flight club. Try it with me now.

In for 4 seconds. Hold 7. Out 7. This activates your “relaxation response.”

FOODS

For preventing panic storms, I can personally vouch for nomming avocado and almonds on the regular.

Eat ’em and they’ll eat your anxiety-seeds before they sprout.

CHAMOMILE TEA

It works as a scented candle too

(Get the one with lavender added for an olfactory bulb equivalent of oral sex.)

YOGA

Makes you redirect focus using your whole body – and breathe deeply.

Conan not included – unless you’re a hot teen vampire. In which case panic’s the least of your probs.

SUPPLEMENTS

While you say “no” to drugs, say “yes” to Vitamin C. And B12.

(Or “si”. We welcome all flavors of crazy here – regardless of their native tongue.)

MEDITATION

A daily practice of meditation helps recalibrate the brain so the thalamus doesn’t go into overdrive.

So, go forth and install your serenity software, DIY style.

LAST RESORTS

And finally – if it’s an option for you, nothing wrong with an occasional nightcap.

That’s all – for now!

Good luck, my fellow spastics!