💥 What a Panic Attack Feels Like (For Me)

⚠️ This post includes a personal account of panic attacks. If you’re feeling sensitive or anxious right now, please take care of yourself and come back when you’re ready.

Let me be real with you — I wouldn’t wish a panic attack on anyone. But if you’ve had one, then you know. And if you haven’t? Well… maybe this can help you understand people like me a little better.

Because panic attacks aren’t just “feeling nervous.” They’re loud. They’re messy. And they hijack your whole body like you’ve been thrown into a tornado with no warning.

🚨 It starts like this…

My chest tightens. I can still breathe, but it suddenly feels like I forgot how. My heart starts pounding like it’s trying to break free from my chest. It’s fast. Loud. Scary.

My throat feels like it’s closing — not in a “sore throat” way, but like I might choke. And then the nausea hits. My stomach knots up. I feel lightheaded. My hands sweat. My legs shake. My brain screams “You’re not okay. Something’s wrong.”

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🌀 Then comes the spiral

I check my pulse.
I Google symptoms.
I panic more.

Thoughts hit me like:

• “Is this a heart attack?”
• “Am I about to die?”
• “What if no one helps me in time?”
• “What if I pass out in front of my kids?”
• “What if this never ends?”

All while looking “fine” on the outside.

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🧠 No trigger? No problem — my anxiety finds one

Sometimes it’s stress.
Sometimes exhaustion.
Sometimes nothing at all.

It can make me avoid driving, cancel plans, and isolate. It makes me ashamed — even though I know it’s not my fault.

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💡 What helps me ride it out

• Cold water. On my face, on my wrists. It shocks me back.
• Talking gently to myself like I would to my child: “You’re safe. You’re okay. This will pass.”
• Laying down with a heavy blanket. Grounding my body.
• Accepting the wave (this one is HARD).

It feels like it lasts forever. But it never does.

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💛 To anyone who knows this feeling:

You’re not overreacting.
You’re not broken.
You’re not “too much.”

You’re surviving a storm inside your body that no one else can see — and you’re still here.

🖤
If this resonates, share your experience in the comments or send it to someone who needs to understand what we go through.

You’re not alone. Not here. Not with Anxiety Momster.