How Does It Feel When You Get An Anxiety Attack?

Thank you, dearest Jill, for this blog topic. I’ll try my best to resolve your query and maybe, in the process, get to know myself a bit better as well.

Whenever I visit my psychiatrist or my therapist, I feel a certain connection gap. Explaining exactly how I felt during a particular attack becomes extremely difficult, if not impossible. On the contrary, while typing or writing something, I feel a strong connection tying me to my content. I can barely move before I finish a particular segment of any write-up.

Today, I saw my psychiatrist again. He is a very decent human being and there is no doubt that he’s tremendously good at what he does. However, I cannot ignore the lack of a bond on an emotional level.

Many of you might come for me, saying you’re lucky that you have someone to talk to who understands what is going on in your life. Then, really, do they? Because they haven’t walked in your shoes. They can only guide you, help you, but can rarely try and match your emotional frequency.

All that said, let’s get to our main business, explaining how an anxiety attack destroys a completely normal day for you out of a simple spark.

For me, personally, I have particular triggers for my attacks:

• One, having to do something time-bound or having to meet a deadline.

• Two, looking at a listing of numerous things, generally in the nature of summarization of tasks I need to do (like a to-do list), or ideas I need to go through.

• Three, having to travel a considerable distance alone, that is, without anyone I consider close.

• Lastly, crowded spaces and public transport.

I have had three attacks recently that had deteriorated considerably over time. Generally, my attacks escalate within minutes and last for around one and a half hours. At times, I can suppress or delay them, but they almost always pop back up within hours.

It starts with a feeling of fear, a fear that I might be attacked or destroyed from within. I then start feeling restless. This is the point where I realize the possibility of a full-fledged attack coming through and try to contain myself. My physical symptoms soon become clear. I sit facing the wall or with my head bent down, my hands trembling and fingers tapping the bed.

I just want my thoughts to stop going haywire, I want to end them, not myself. But how can you? The nightmare is already banging on your door. It is shattering open the windows you kept shut and turned your back to.

This is when I start self-harming, hitting my head against the wall or any other rigid surface, pulling vigorously at my hair. There was this one time I cut myself with a razor that wasn’t sharp enough, but that has been months now. It only gave me unnoticeable bruises on my arm.

These are the moments I start crying endlessly. I keep choking myself. Breathing becomes too difficult at this point, short heavy breaths make me feel like I might faint any moment. You just can’t stop crying, your entire body is consumed in thoughts of pain and despair. You just want it to end.

The last three attacks I have had were the worst, especially the most recent one where I paralyzed myself. I couldn’t feel my legs at all for more than half an hour. While having to go through another one, I cut my hair off and I cannot lie about the fact that it felt a little calming afterward. That day I fainted temporarily too and woke up in haste, as if someone was drowning me. I kept shaking with terror for prolonged minutes, not being able to move, resting my head on my mother’s lap.

Yes, I know what you are thinking. What am I doing writing about instances that make me anxious the moment I think of them? No, I don’t like recalling the ordeals, but I know someone, somewhere, reading this post today, can find strength in mind and body, because if I overcame the odds, so can you!

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