Other people's panic attacks
Feb. 1st, 2011 01:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cosmolinguistI managed to fend them off until Friday night, but it was no surprise the panic attacks returned.
Over the past few weeks, maybe almost a month now, all my old familiar anxiety symptoms have made a comeback. Namely: insomnia, nausea, grinding my teeth at night and otherwise being very physically tense to the point of fairly severe muscle pain, little interest or ability to cook or eat properly, incredibly poor focus and concentration (not having even a Twitter-length attention span is typical lately), and a terrible restless lethargy that can leave me exhausted at the merest physical exertion (things like taking a shower or making the bed), yet too jittery to sit still, with my fingers and legs and everything always tapping and twitching.
While none of these probably sound like a big deal on their own, they all erode a person's quality of life. Fairly constant discomfort or pain and not sleeping well pack a one-two punch that alone would severely decrease most people's quality of life, despite sleep hygiene and continuing pain being the kinds of symptoms that are really undervalued as far as the effects they have on people. The mere word insomnia, for instance, conveys little or nothing of the horrible experience of it: the drudgery of dark lonely hours where thoughts too easily turn gloomy, where getting up and trying to be useful feels like a betrayal and staying in bed quickily turns tedious, leaving you resenting a place that's supposed to be cozy and relaxing, i.e. your bed, and is also prone to upsetting your partner if as in my case you have one. And you often as not spend the day after the sleep-poor night in some strange twilight between waking and sleeping, feeling useless and fuzzy-brained, as if the world is not quite real and nothing you do will matter.
It is into a state such as this that I found a panic attack sneaking up on me Friday night. In the telegram-like Twitter/Facebook idiom I reached out to my friends: "Fuck fucking panic attacks! Caught me when I was trying to buy tickets for London tomorrow and now I'm scared it won't be a good idea to go. But I desperately want to. Being part of Delga is important to me, esp when I'm not working. Seeing friends and London is good. It's infuriating how inappropriate my reactions are."
The reaction to this, and Facebook messages I left and got comments on over the next couple of days, has left me wanting to say a few things about the nature of panic attacks and anxiety-related illnesses.
A recent preoccupation of mine has been how best to respond to people in various situations. I am thinking about things that I would or would not rather hear myself, and trying to apply that to how I react to my friends saying similar things (the example there, for anyone reading this who's curious but not a Facebook friend of mine, is about the times when "I wish I could help" ends up sounding more like it's about the person doing the wishing than the person who needs the help). I wrote some miserable-sounding things during the worst moments of my weekend, starting with that on Friday night, and I have been thinking a lot about the range of responses I got.
What to know when you know people who struggle with panic and anxiety disorders
I don't think that word means what you think it means
Unfortunately, some medicalized conditions are named by words that we use in at least different ways in everyday situations. "Depression" is not "feeling sad", especially when sad things have happened to you, in which case sadness is normal and healthy. "Migraines" are not "bad headaches"; I find them more like whole-body traumas that can affect vision, hearing, balance, an unusual sensitivity to various kinds of sensory data, they can make you nauseous, they can even land you in the hospital. Some of my worst migraines don't even involve headaches as a symptom; they're not even required.
And in much the same way, panic over something like not being able to find your keys or your wedding caterer cancelling at the last minute is not the kind of thing I am talking about here. Though it has some similarities -- stress, adrenalin and all that brings with it, heart pumping, hyperventilating, etc.etc. -- it's no more like a panic attack than depression is like feeling sad when something sad has happened to you.
It's my ticker, doc
Panic attacks are regularly misunderstood in new sufferers and thought to be life-threatening conditions. A friend of mine told me, about her daughter, "I don’t know how many times she drove herself to the emergency room while on her first job after college, thinking she was having a heart attack."
Another friend has said he thought he was having a stroke that lasted a week before he went to the hospital and asked what the hell was going on with him.
This doesn't feel like how it feels when you've lost your keys. It feels like dying looks in the movies.
And if you're like most of us reading this, you've probaby rarely or never been close enough to actual near-death type problems that you might well not be able to recognize the welcome news that this is not one of them.
Blessed reassurance
...doesn't really work. Well-meaning friends can say all kinds of lovely things, heartfelt expressions of encouragement and advice... which I can recognize as such and still resent the hell out of. When I posted about the panic attack, I was doing it for different reasons than a lot of my friends clearly thought I was. I didn't want advice, or reassurance that I should do what they thought I should do. Thinking about the subject of going to London for the weekend at all was proving really bad for me.
So I was very carefully avoiding thinking about what I should do at that point; Andrew and I hijacked our evening plans to watch a DVD of something nice and distracting, with lots of cuddles, and every time the things I'd been thinking about recurred in my mind and I started feeling the crazy stress well up and get caught in my throat, we'd both make an effort to help keep it from getting to me too badly again.
It can be a tricky balance, blubbering a bit can release the pressure before it gets too much, but indulging it can be bad too. Sometimes the effort of trying to control your breathing is too much, so you have to just let it get away from you again, but knowing you will rein it in because that is one of the best things you can do, I've found. It leaves you in a better state to go back and make the sensible decision that the panic short-circuited in the first place. I didn't allow myself to think about London until I woke up the next morning.
Equal and opposite reaction
One of the big problems with a panic attack is just managing the physical symptoms. Especially if you're out in public or at work or something, the last thing you want might be to be seen to be having visible chest pains, difficulty breathing, perhaps a tendency to emotional breakdown... and wherever you are, no doubt you were in the middle of a better use of your time than having to treat yourself like a combination between a priceless Ming vase and Bubble Boy.
Part of the reason panic attacks seem like physical ailments rather than anything psychological is that they can be seem so random, incongruous, a reaction that has little to do with what you were up to when it started happening. And yet now, as well as whatever was stressing you out anyway, your body has given you a whole set of new challenges to deal with, so you end up unable to concentrate on anything but breathing for a while. If you were cooking dinner, looking after a child... well, I'm sure you can imagine all kinds of instances in which this would be incredibly unhelpful, or dangerous. One of my worst was in Amsterdam, when I'd just boarded a flight to Minneapolis. I was on my own, and not sure how I was going to get through the next nine hours cooped up on the plane.
Method in the madness
Because they are such inappropriate reactions, it can be easy to think, even in terms of reassuring somoene, that since you don't know when they'll happen, there's no reason to change your life around for them. I can see this point, but while it's true that they're troublesome particularly because they are unhelpfully unpredictable, there are triggers and indicators of likelihood, at least for mine. Nothing is guaranteed to make me panic, nothing is guaranteed not to, but after a while you can't help but notice some trends.
I knew, for instance, London would be stressful because I was worried about money, because I would be traveling for a long time on my own, because I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen (it involved new places I wasn't sure how to get to, and a lot of new people) and I had some basic responsibilities at the conference I was going to London to attend.
Though I have had panic attacks in my sleep and with other equally obscure or missing triggers, I do try to think about and mange or avoid particular sorts of things when I am feeling fragile.
Sometimes they come back
Or indeed, they don't really go away. That I was feeling dizzy and sick on my bus into town, normal old bus but the first step Londonwards, did not surprise me at all.
When I told Facebook about it, I got a bunch of people telling me "you can do it! you will have fun!" which I must admit kind of baffled me. I was doing it. If feeling bad like that kept me home, I really wouldn't do anything (and not just think I dont do anything, which is what I do now)!
But I wasn't doing it for fun. And admittedly I hadn't made it all that clear to Facebook why I was going to London, so I imagine my friends might've thought it was for something social or cultural or, y'know, fun, rather than something good and useful but something about which I'd come up with a hundred adjectives to describe it before I got to "fun."
Even if my intention had been to have fun, though, it' can be really difficult to do in the throes or the aftermath of a panic attack. I'd managed to get some sleep the night before, so I was feeling okay, but still quite a lot like what I've come to describe as "migraine hangover": very sleepy, very slow and fuzzy-brained, very swimming-through-treacle. Panic attacks can be similar in that they are bloody exhausting; they wipe you out. All that adrenalin produces the mother of all crashes afterwards, and the other pains and tensions and various things can take a long time to calm down too.
My brain always feels like it's not quite put together properly for a while afterwards, like a map that's been mis-folded. It still folds up, more or less, it still fits back into the glove compartment if you shove it, but it's decidedly suboptimal.
That's all very interesting, Holly; what can I do?
If you are with or talking to someone who is exhibiting some of the symptoms of a panic attack, even if it isn't necessarily helpful to call it one (chest pains, difficulty breathing, emotionally upset, heart racing, dizziness, nauseous, etc...), deal with the physical stuff first. If you're there, offer the person whatever physical comfort seems appropriate (a blanket, a cup of tea, hugs, tissues, somewhere nice to sit/rest).
If they're not already, try and get them somewhere quiet and away from people so they don't have to worry about that too.
From there, it's best to play it by ear, but try not to be too pushy. If other people are anything like me, the last thing you need to hear is that you are fine or that you will get through (x) okay. You probaly already know it, if you are a seasoned sufferer of panic attacks.
You may also not give a shit about (x) right now (with maybe a few exceptions, i.e. babies you are responsible for, the fact that your cigarette is about to set your hair on fire... but even these shouldn't be assumed to be of interest to the person when they are overwhelmed by the most basic functions of our bodies: breathing, heartbeat, that sort of thing... it really does seem like all you can think about for a while if your chest feels like it is about to burst), and rightly so, I say.
To this end, give the person time. Play it by ear. Listen more than you talk. How well you know them will dictate how best to respond, and you might not get it right (I can't tell even the people closest to me a foolproof way to deal with me when I'm panicking, and don't begrudge the people who get it wrong) but try not to worry about it.
Unless the situation they're in is requiring of immediately necessary maintenance, it's fine to take their mind off it. Sometimes saying "you'll get through (x) okay" just has a person thinking about the big fearsome (x) rather than the part about being okay. Just feeling comfortable and safe will help more, sometimes.
The first thing to think about trying to stter the person towards is breathing slowly and calmly. Big breaths, counting to various numbers, waiting, and slow breathing in and out are often recommended in various combinations. Not only is this good for regulating your body's levels of oxygen and carbon dioxide, it also gives the person something to concentrate on, which is very simple and can be brought under their own control, all of which makes it really powerful.
Be patient. I always start hyperventilating again as soon as my attention wanders the tiniest bit (usually back to whatever I was thinking about when I started panicking) and it takes a while to calm down even when you are able to focus on it. This can be tedious, frustrating, worrisome, and other negative things when you are watching it, I know, but try not to let on. The panicking person is not enjoying it a lot either. Not being made to feel bad about losing ocntrol makes it that much easier to get it back again.
Over the past few weeks, maybe almost a month now, all my old familiar anxiety symptoms have made a comeback. Namely: insomnia, nausea, grinding my teeth at night and otherwise being very physically tense to the point of fairly severe muscle pain, little interest or ability to cook or eat properly, incredibly poor focus and concentration (not having even a Twitter-length attention span is typical lately), and a terrible restless lethargy that can leave me exhausted at the merest physical exertion (things like taking a shower or making the bed), yet too jittery to sit still, with my fingers and legs and everything always tapping and twitching.
While none of these probably sound like a big deal on their own, they all erode a person's quality of life. Fairly constant discomfort or pain and not sleeping well pack a one-two punch that alone would severely decrease most people's quality of life, despite sleep hygiene and continuing pain being the kinds of symptoms that are really undervalued as far as the effects they have on people. The mere word insomnia, for instance, conveys little or nothing of the horrible experience of it: the drudgery of dark lonely hours where thoughts too easily turn gloomy, where getting up and trying to be useful feels like a betrayal and staying in bed quickily turns tedious, leaving you resenting a place that's supposed to be cozy and relaxing, i.e. your bed, and is also prone to upsetting your partner if as in my case you have one. And you often as not spend the day after the sleep-poor night in some strange twilight between waking and sleeping, feeling useless and fuzzy-brained, as if the world is not quite real and nothing you do will matter.
It is into a state such as this that I found a panic attack sneaking up on me Friday night. In the telegram-like Twitter/Facebook idiom I reached out to my friends: "Fuck fucking panic attacks! Caught me when I was trying to buy tickets for London tomorrow and now I'm scared it won't be a good idea to go. But I desperately want to. Being part of Delga is important to me, esp when I'm not working. Seeing friends and London is good. It's infuriating how inappropriate my reactions are."
The reaction to this, and Facebook messages I left and got comments on over the next couple of days, has left me wanting to say a few things about the nature of panic attacks and anxiety-related illnesses.
A recent preoccupation of mine has been how best to respond to people in various situations. I am thinking about things that I would or would not rather hear myself, and trying to apply that to how I react to my friends saying similar things (the example there, for anyone reading this who's curious but not a Facebook friend of mine, is about the times when "I wish I could help" ends up sounding more like it's about the person doing the wishing than the person who needs the help). I wrote some miserable-sounding things during the worst moments of my weekend, starting with that on Friday night, and I have been thinking a lot about the range of responses I got.
What to know when you know people who struggle with panic and anxiety disorders
I don't think that word means what you think it means
Unfortunately, some medicalized conditions are named by words that we use in at least different ways in everyday situations. "Depression" is not "feeling sad", especially when sad things have happened to you, in which case sadness is normal and healthy. "Migraines" are not "bad headaches"; I find them more like whole-body traumas that can affect vision, hearing, balance, an unusual sensitivity to various kinds of sensory data, they can make you nauseous, they can even land you in the hospital. Some of my worst migraines don't even involve headaches as a symptom; they're not even required.
And in much the same way, panic over something like not being able to find your keys or your wedding caterer cancelling at the last minute is not the kind of thing I am talking about here. Though it has some similarities -- stress, adrenalin and all that brings with it, heart pumping, hyperventilating, etc.etc. -- it's no more like a panic attack than depression is like feeling sad when something sad has happened to you.
It's my ticker, doc
Panic attacks are regularly misunderstood in new sufferers and thought to be life-threatening conditions. A friend of mine told me, about her daughter, "I don’t know how many times she drove herself to the emergency room while on her first job after college, thinking she was having a heart attack."
Another friend has said he thought he was having a stroke that lasted a week before he went to the hospital and asked what the hell was going on with him.
This doesn't feel like how it feels when you've lost your keys. It feels like dying looks in the movies.
And if you're like most of us reading this, you've probaby rarely or never been close enough to actual near-death type problems that you might well not be able to recognize the welcome news that this is not one of them.
Blessed reassurance
...doesn't really work. Well-meaning friends can say all kinds of lovely things, heartfelt expressions of encouragement and advice... which I can recognize as such and still resent the hell out of. When I posted about the panic attack, I was doing it for different reasons than a lot of my friends clearly thought I was. I didn't want advice, or reassurance that I should do what they thought I should do. Thinking about the subject of going to London for the weekend at all was proving really bad for me.
So I was very carefully avoiding thinking about what I should do at that point; Andrew and I hijacked our evening plans to watch a DVD of something nice and distracting, with lots of cuddles, and every time the things I'd been thinking about recurred in my mind and I started feeling the crazy stress well up and get caught in my throat, we'd both make an effort to help keep it from getting to me too badly again.
It can be a tricky balance, blubbering a bit can release the pressure before it gets too much, but indulging it can be bad too. Sometimes the effort of trying to control your breathing is too much, so you have to just let it get away from you again, but knowing you will rein it in because that is one of the best things you can do, I've found. It leaves you in a better state to go back and make the sensible decision that the panic short-circuited in the first place. I didn't allow myself to think about London until I woke up the next morning.
Equal and opposite reaction
One of the big problems with a panic attack is just managing the physical symptoms. Especially if you're out in public or at work or something, the last thing you want might be to be seen to be having visible chest pains, difficulty breathing, perhaps a tendency to emotional breakdown... and wherever you are, no doubt you were in the middle of a better use of your time than having to treat yourself like a combination between a priceless Ming vase and Bubble Boy.
Part of the reason panic attacks seem like physical ailments rather than anything psychological is that they can be seem so random, incongruous, a reaction that has little to do with what you were up to when it started happening. And yet now, as well as whatever was stressing you out anyway, your body has given you a whole set of new challenges to deal with, so you end up unable to concentrate on anything but breathing for a while. If you were cooking dinner, looking after a child... well, I'm sure you can imagine all kinds of instances in which this would be incredibly unhelpful, or dangerous. One of my worst was in Amsterdam, when I'd just boarded a flight to Minneapolis. I was on my own, and not sure how I was going to get through the next nine hours cooped up on the plane.
Method in the madness
Because they are such inappropriate reactions, it can be easy to think, even in terms of reassuring somoene, that since you don't know when they'll happen, there's no reason to change your life around for them. I can see this point, but while it's true that they're troublesome particularly because they are unhelpfully unpredictable, there are triggers and indicators of likelihood, at least for mine. Nothing is guaranteed to make me panic, nothing is guaranteed not to, but after a while you can't help but notice some trends.
I knew, for instance, London would be stressful because I was worried about money, because I would be traveling for a long time on my own, because I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen (it involved new places I wasn't sure how to get to, and a lot of new people) and I had some basic responsibilities at the conference I was going to London to attend.
Though I have had panic attacks in my sleep and with other equally obscure or missing triggers, I do try to think about and mange or avoid particular sorts of things when I am feeling fragile.
Sometimes they come back
Or indeed, they don't really go away. That I was feeling dizzy and sick on my bus into town, normal old bus but the first step Londonwards, did not surprise me at all.
When I told Facebook about it, I got a bunch of people telling me "you can do it! you will have fun!" which I must admit kind of baffled me. I was doing it. If feeling bad like that kept me home, I really wouldn't do anything (and not just think I dont do anything, which is what I do now)!
But I wasn't doing it for fun. And admittedly I hadn't made it all that clear to Facebook why I was going to London, so I imagine my friends might've thought it was for something social or cultural or, y'know, fun, rather than something good and useful but something about which I'd come up with a hundred adjectives to describe it before I got to "fun."
Even if my intention had been to have fun, though, it' can be really difficult to do in the throes or the aftermath of a panic attack. I'd managed to get some sleep the night before, so I was feeling okay, but still quite a lot like what I've come to describe as "migraine hangover": very sleepy, very slow and fuzzy-brained, very swimming-through-treacle. Panic attacks can be similar in that they are bloody exhausting; they wipe you out. All that adrenalin produces the mother of all crashes afterwards, and the other pains and tensions and various things can take a long time to calm down too.
My brain always feels like it's not quite put together properly for a while afterwards, like a map that's been mis-folded. It still folds up, more or less, it still fits back into the glove compartment if you shove it, but it's decidedly suboptimal.
That's all very interesting, Holly; what can I do?
If you are with or talking to someone who is exhibiting some of the symptoms of a panic attack, even if it isn't necessarily helpful to call it one (chest pains, difficulty breathing, emotionally upset, heart racing, dizziness, nauseous, etc...), deal with the physical stuff first. If you're there, offer the person whatever physical comfort seems appropriate (a blanket, a cup of tea, hugs, tissues, somewhere nice to sit/rest).
If they're not already, try and get them somewhere quiet and away from people so they don't have to worry about that too.
From there, it's best to play it by ear, but try not to be too pushy. If other people are anything like me, the last thing you need to hear is that you are fine or that you will get through (x) okay. You probaly already know it, if you are a seasoned sufferer of panic attacks.
You may also not give a shit about (x) right now (with maybe a few exceptions, i.e. babies you are responsible for, the fact that your cigarette is about to set your hair on fire... but even these shouldn't be assumed to be of interest to the person when they are overwhelmed by the most basic functions of our bodies: breathing, heartbeat, that sort of thing... it really does seem like all you can think about for a while if your chest feels like it is about to burst), and rightly so, I say.
To this end, give the person time. Play it by ear. Listen more than you talk. How well you know them will dictate how best to respond, and you might not get it right (I can't tell even the people closest to me a foolproof way to deal with me when I'm panicking, and don't begrudge the people who get it wrong) but try not to worry about it.
Unless the situation they're in is requiring of immediately necessary maintenance, it's fine to take their mind off it. Sometimes saying "you'll get through (x) okay" just has a person thinking about the big fearsome (x) rather than the part about being okay. Just feeling comfortable and safe will help more, sometimes.
The first thing to think about trying to stter the person towards is breathing slowly and calmly. Big breaths, counting to various numbers, waiting, and slow breathing in and out are often recommended in various combinations. Not only is this good for regulating your body's levels of oxygen and carbon dioxide, it also gives the person something to concentrate on, which is very simple and can be brought under their own control, all of which makes it really powerful.
Be patient. I always start hyperventilating again as soon as my attention wanders the tiniest bit (usually back to whatever I was thinking about when I started panicking) and it takes a while to calm down even when you are able to focus on it. This can be tedious, frustrating, worrisome, and other negative things when you are watching it, I know, but try not to let on. The panicking person is not enjoying it a lot either. Not being made to feel bad about losing ocntrol makes it that much easier to get it back again.
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(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 01:30 pm (UTC)Of course, I don't appear to have those regular 'lost your keys' panic reactions. I've been told I'm unreasonably calm when normal people would be panicking, because I don't panic like normal people - I'm either paralysed with anxiety or I'm breezing it.
Uh - unhelpful comment is unhelpful! >_>
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 01:37 pm (UTC)I'm not saying people prone to panic attacks don't panic at the things other people do. I'm just saying we don't do it in the way other people do, as you say yourself. It's those "regular" panic reactions I'm trying to differentiate this from.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 01:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 04:26 pm (UTC)Had some (along with the 24-hour muscle tension) midway through last year. Am just about over it, through a mix of lalalala and denial. Endless sympathy to you - yes, one breath at a time is always a good start.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 11:17 am (UTC)I'm glad you're feeling better these days.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 06:08 pm (UTC)http://showingup.livejournal.com/51423.html?mode=reply
I have not suffered from panic attacks myself; crippling anxiety yes. Those times, I don't even try to fight- I take a Xanax and fuck off for 12 hours and hope its gone when I wake up. The fact that you somehow survive these things without emergency chemicals is amazing to me.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 09:44 am (UTC)As for the emergency chemicals... I did get a tiny prescription for valium about this time last year, when I was so bad I couldn't even stand to be in my own house for a couple of days (and you can imagine what that did for Andrew's mental health too); I didn't use them all then so I know there are a few knocking about yet if I think they'd help. They were wonderful for me then.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 07:45 pm (UTC)Argh, this comment sounds all about me and I didn't mean that. I really hope things start looking up from you soon.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 09:40 am (UTC)Anyway I think you did one of the best things this weekend, which is tell Dan I was having a shit time when he'd slept through most of it and didn't notice :) Once he got over being contrite, talking to him made me feel better. Otherwise, you're doing great: letting me invade your house to watch football, asking me to go swimming or knitting, having stuff to do and nice people to do it with is the best way to keep the world from being too overwhelming for me.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 10:01 pm (UTC)I'm sorry to hear all the evil things have returned :/ and oh man, coping with all that (well, NOT coping really) is so stressful. The physical pain of having all your muscles screaming because you've been so tense, or crying for hours / being sick is just awful.
But this is a really helpful post. Thank you for writing it, I'm sure it will help lots of people understand, cope and learn to accept help & love when given.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 09:55 am (UTC)I'm sorry to hear the evil things have returned too. I'm not surprised, as such, as I've been off the meds for a while and counselling didn't really happen for me and I've had a really appalling few months. But I'm still disappointed. Got a doctor's appointment booked for... next week I think? I'm sure there'll be lots to talk about.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 10:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 10:32 pm (UTC)....!
You've just described a fair bit of the last three months for me, off and on. Insomnia hasn't been too bad this winter, although I've been having horrible nightmares instead that are just as exhausting as being awake. I've been struggling with various digestion issues, and have been wearing a mouth guard most nights to keep from grinding my teeth.
So much tension as well - aches and pains all over the place, resulting in feeling weak and lethargic, and random little ticks or twitches when I try to relax at night. I've had real difficulty in the mornings when I'm trying to drag myself to work, and then when I get in although I'm hungry I struggle to make things to eat. I usually have quite good focus/concentration, but it's been seriously rubbish of late - my work has suffered due to this.
I think I have to blame SAD. Hate SAD. Desperately need springtime.
Re panic attacks: yes, and yes again. I don't get them often, but I have had a few and they are terrifying. Usually situations involving crowds of people pressed together in a space that's not big enough tend to bring them on for me - I generally just avoid crowds when I can (I hate, hate, hate crowded trains but sometimes have to take them anyway and will either stand by a window/door and stare out of it, or read stuff on my phone while listening to music). I find it really unhelpful when strangers ask if I'm okay, for some reason - I think mostly because it means to my head that I'm not trying hard enough to appear okay.
If it were me having the panic attack, the best thing to do would be to tell me to slow down my breathing and/or count my breaths, and to get me away, slowly and carefully, from whatever is causing the panic attack. (If it's a crowd, take me out of the crowd, or at least get me to where I'm not surrounded by them, like by a wall or something.) Usually having a drink of water if possible is good - it helps me ground myself and allows me to 'feel' my body again. When I have panic attacks (and when I'm stressed at other times too), I feel detached from myself, I literally feel as though I'm not fully in my own body, so doing something that makes me aware of my body helps. (I find a hug or other contact really comforting, although of course not everyone does.)
Once I start talking about what happened and what the triggers were, it means I'm recovering well enough to start analysing it, and that's a good sign. I'll probably be a bit shaky for an hour or so, and maybe not all there in terms of rational thinking (I really dislike being vulnerable, and I'll also perhaps feel guilty or that I've wasted time or something). So be gentle for a while, and I'll soon be back to normal.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 10:12 am (UTC)I don't like it when strangers ask if I'm okay because there's such societal pressure to be okay, that not only do people answer "I'm fine" in lots of instances when they're not, but if you just say "no, actually, I'm not" it places a burden on the person who's asked you; then they're likely to either try something that may or may not help you, or ask you what you need when, as you say, you are probably not all there in terms of rational thinking.
You've described a lot of things really well here. I'm sorry you've had such experience, but it has helped me clarify my own thoughts and reminded me of a couple of things I forgot to include myself, which is great.
And yes, I'm totally with you there on the SAD. My husband pointed out that January has been a bad month for me a few times lately. I prefer warmth to cold anyway so have always resented the winters, but being further north even than I was used to in Minnesota, and having moved somewhere that's famously grey and rainy, is really bad for me.
Of course, it's also bad for me that this year continued the streak of really bad shit happening to me in November. And indeed in January. Bah. Fuck that; we're halfway to the spring equinox now, and I for one hope the second half of this journey through winter is better than the first half.