My Terrible Experience with Terror

I hope to start a meaningful conversation around the suffering many of us experience as a result of our mental illnesses.

You shouldn’t read this if you’re currently struggling with panic attacks so much that a detailed narrative of my panic attacks will trigger them.

I don’t enjoy talking about my suffering publicly, but I feel courageous enough to share it here, because:

  1. I’ve been impressed by LessWrong’s culture of kindness and respect.

  2. I hope I can help or comfort at least one person who is also afflicted by mental illness.

I don’t want your pity, but I want your love.

I don’t want your agreement, but I want your respect.

With that said,

My crippling anxiety and resulting panic attacks are by far (second place is not visible on the graph) the most difficult thing I’ve ever been through.

I had my first panic attack on January 1st of 2021.

It felt like walking down the street on a stormy day and randomly getting punched in the face by Mike Tyson. I say stormy because in hindsight I had not been taking good care of my physical or mental health, and the signs were there.

My first panic attack was awful, and insidious, and hope crushing.

My second panic attack was more awful, and more insidious, and more hope crushing.

I don’t know how many panic attacks I experienced in the first two days. They blended into each other, and the high levels of anxiety I experienced in the anticipation of the next inevitable panic attack certainly didn’t help.

I call them panic attacks now, but for the first several days I had no idea what was happening to me.

I only knew terror. I only knew that my skin felt like it was burning. I only knew that I was fighting to breathe.

You know that feeling when you realize things aren’t going to be the same? I had only experienced a similar pit in my stomach when an awful thing had happened.

I felt like an animal trapped in a cave. There was a raging fire at the entrance, and that made me really afraid.

How could I escape?

I desperately wished I could feel better. I wished I could escape to somewhere calmer and brighter, maybe something permanent.

I vividly remember not being able to sleep those first two days. My God, my heart goes out to those of you who struggle with insomnia.

Before this experience I was not aware of how effective sleep is at healing your mind.

I was unable to ignore how sleep deprivation affected me, and how much worse it made panic attacks and their surrounding anxiety.

Thoughts that I could have typically brushed off as illogical, now gripped me.

Fear and anxiety that I normally could have pushed through, now felt insurmountable.

I suffered alone for two days while my mom was traveling, experiencing wave after wave of terror, never being able to rest my eyes, my mind, my soul.

I would not wish this experience on anyone, no matter how evil.

Seeing my mom when she returned from her trip comforted me in ways that words can’t.

Words can’t describe.

My mom helped me go see a doctor, who explained that I was experiencing panic attacks, and that Lexapro, an SSRI, could help.The doctor also explained that benzodiazepines would help with my panic attacks, but I had read so many horrible things about their withdrawal symptoms that I was willing to accept my suffering.

Now I had heard of panic attacks before, but there were a few reasons I hadn’t thought that’s what I had been experiencing.

One, I thought panic attacks only lasted for 5-15 minutes, mine lasted for much longer. Two, I was unaware of how human bodies react to terror.

I think terror, is the perfect way to describe the psychological effect of panic attacks. Panic doesn’t feel quite right.

I learned a lot about panic attacks in the weeks following my first encounter.

  1. Homo sapiens evolved to experience extreme and sudden fear. Apes evolutionarily benefit from experiencing panic attacks. If a lion is chasing you, be tremendously afraid. It’s better to feel extraordinary fear than to die. And next time, don’t go anywhere near lions.

  2. The nervous system is responsible for making sure you experience suffering when you’re in danger. If you don’t experience suffering, why do anything?

  3. A panic attack is the big red button that the brain typically saves for extremely dangerous situations. Once the button is pushed, it cannot be unpushed.

  4. Once pushed, most people feel like they’re dying. They feel like they’re having a heart attack. Their breath quickens to an uncomfortable rhythm.Their bodies sweat profusely and shake. Their vision fogs. They lose grip on reality.

  5. Around a third of people typically experience at least one panic attack in their life. Neurotypical people typically only experience panic attacks when something awful has happened, or seems likely to happen.

Understanding the mechanisms that caused panic attacks helped me. But it didn’t help me much.

I needed a cure, something reliable, maybe a pill, or words I could chant, or a god I could pray to.

It makes me laugh now how obvious it must have been to Google that I was in extreme distress.

I don’t even have to go through my search history to give many examples of the queries I made. Here are a few: how to get rid of panic attacks, people recover panic attacks, medication best panic attack, medication efficacy panic attack, panic attack reddit, panic attack medication help reddit, etc.

I found more book recommendations than I could read, but I ended up reading: Hope and Help for Your Nerves by Claire Weekes, and The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook by Edmund J. Bourne.

Here’s what I learned from these books.

  1. For the love of all that is good, stop fighting your panic attacks. You cannot win.

  2. Claire Weekes recommends people do four things when they notice they’re ascending the elevator of anxiety (the last stop is a panic attack). One, face the symptoms, do not run away. Two, accept what you’re experiencing, do not fight. Three, float with your feelings, learn to do while suffering. Four, let time pass. [EDIT: I misremembered her steps significantly, and in a way that would reduce the effectiveness of her method. Thanks weathersystems!]

  3. From Bourne, I learned why a simple statistical model could have confidently predicted that I was at very high risk of developing a panic disorder. I wasn’t exercising. I wasn’t socializing (covid amirite), I was going through a stressful time (very unhappy at my first job), I was a generally anxious person, I was depressed.

Understanding the above, really helped me emotionally. I didn’t feel alone. I didn’t feel like my problems were insurmountable.

With Lexapro, and diligent practice of Claire’s four step method I reduced the frequency and severity of my panic attacks.

After three months, I had the last panic attack that was comparable to the many I had experienced in the beginning.

But, my life still really really sucked. While I knew all of these things I should do, it still felt nearly impossible to apply them effectively.

Take for example Claire Weekes second step “Accept what you’re experiencing”.

What the fuck is acceptance? I’ve never thought so much about what that word means.

At first I thought it meant I had to like, or at least not hate what I was experiencing, and that felt impossible. It felt like shooting someone in the leg and asking them to smile.

I struggled with this problem for many many days.

Eventually, I came to a definition of acceptance acceptable to me; don’t actively try to change what you’re experiencing. It didn’t mean I couldn’t hate my panic attacks. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t suffer. It didn’t mean I would get better. Just don’t fight the current. Be ok with suffering.

I believe that Claire Weekes method is actionable and effective. And the more I’ve learned about my mind and body specifically, and about the mind and body generally, the more certain I am that it is the only effective method that can be done alone, and without guidance.

Her approach is one of the great truths of Buddhism reinterpreted and distilled for the modern human.

If you can’t change it, accept it.

If you can change it, change it.

All suffering is borne out of attachment. Suffering is the result of a conscious entity not accepting the contents of their consciousness.

If you accept what you cannot change, you will suffer as little as is possible.

Six months had passed from that first terrible night before I truly believed in that truth. And while keeping that truth in mind, I thought of all of the things I could change, and I started trying my hardest to change them.

I exercised regularly. I relaxed with yoga. I practiced deep chest breathing, I socialized the amount necessary to maintain sanity. I switched medications until one really helped me (SNRI), I learned to notice my anxious thoughts and to accept them.

But importantly, I never forgot that if I wanted to suffer the least humanly possible I needed to accept what I couldn’t change.

Accept what you cannot change.

Accept what you cannot change.

Accept what you cannot change.

I have repeated this mantra countless times since I first learned it. I’ve accepted that I will suffer more than is necessary if I don’t repeat it often.

It’s been a little over a year since I had my first panic attack.

And not only do I not experience panic attacks.

I’ve never felt such little anxiety.

I’ve never been as content and full of joy,

as

i

am

right

now