The Day My Life Changed

My life changed forever on April 2, 2017. 

That was the day I had my first severe panic attack. 

That’s not what you expected me to say, was it? 

What if I continued on to say that not all of the changes were negative? Would that surprise you even more? Yeah, me too. 

First let’s go back to the beginning. I had struggled with minor anxiety attacks before. I’d even had some experiences where I lost control because of panic and acted impulsively in ways that surprised even me. 

April 2nd was different. It came on slowly. I thought I could handle it. I had been dealing with a tooth infection that had made me feel really sick all while trying to do school and complete internships. I missed some class and some internship. Keeping on top of everything while physically being unable to get off the couch due to weakness took more of a toll on me than I realized. I thought I could handle it all. 

Saturday morning I got up early to go to a required conference. As I started walking to my car, I noticed a pain in my back. I became increasingly anxious when this pain didn’t go away. 

After a few hours I decided to go to the ER to make sure it wasn’t my heart. I was told it was muscular and was sent home with muscle relaxants. Oh yeah, forgot about that pesky back injury from the car accident a few months earlier. 

Fast forward to Sunday night. I took a muscle relaxant and went to bed, hoping that would help me sleep through the night. 

Instead I woke up at 1am completely groggy from the medication with my arms and legs tingling and a tight chest. I was terrified. I decided we should head to the ER. As we were getting ready my world began to feel unsteady and I felt as though I was going to collapse. I told Alyssa that we needed to call 911. So she did. 

There I sat on the couch, frozen and terrified, as more paramedics than I could count stood around the room. Within seconds, the lead paramedic recognized it as a panic attack due to my claw-like, locked hands and the fading pain as I relaxed.  They, of course, told me to follow up at the ER. I was humiliated. 

How had it reached this point?

How did I not know it was a panic attack? 

Had I somehow failed?

These questions reeled through my mind. 

Despite the reassurance of the people around me, I saw failure. 

Yet the next day as I stumbled through my day feeling broken and vulnerable, I began to see the unexpected: grace. Grace for myself. God had not abandoned me. In fact, He was in it all, loving me and allowing me to realize that anything, even panic, could be used for His glory. So I knew on that day that I would write this blog post. I didn’t know when, but I knew I would eventually. 

My world changed. 

I have had more panic attacks. I probably will continue to have more. 

But so much more than that changed. The world became brighter. I found connections with people in a new, powerful, and vulnerable way. 

The number of people that have opened up to me about having a similar experience is astounding. 

There should be no shame in something that is out of a person’s control and is simply the body’s way of coping with stress. 

So. If you are someone who knows someone who struggles with panic attack, extend grace. 

If you struggle with panic and anxiety, know that you are not alone. Give yourself grace. And remember that it is not forever. I am always here to listen if you need someone to listen who understands first hand.