How I Got Hold of My Panic Attacks

Not medical advicejust a practical, evidence-based roadmap. If your symptoms are new, severe, or feel medically scary (like chest pain, fainting, or trouble breathing), get checked by a clinician right away. Panic is common, but you still deserve a real medical “all clear.”

Panic attacks used to feel like my body was auditioning for a disaster movie without telling my brain. Heart racing. Hands tingling. Breath doing that “tiny hamster” thing. And the grand finale: a loud internal narrator shouting, This is The Big One!

The rude truth is that panic attacks are extremely convincing. They can mimic emergencies, arrive out of nowhere, and then leave you exhaustedlike you sprinted a mile while standing perfectly still. The good news is that panic is also trainable. Not “ignore it and it disappears” trainablemore like “teach your nervous system it’s safe” trainable.

Here’s how I got hold of my panic attacks: I built a simple system for what to do during an attack, and a longer-term plan for why the attacks kept happening. I also learned one of the most annoying lessons in mental health: the boring stuff works.

What a Panic Attack Actually Is (and Why It Feels So Dramatic)

A panic attack is a sudden surge of intense fear or discomfort paired with strong physical symptoms. Even when there’s no immediate danger, your body can flip on the fight-or-flight response: adrenaline, faster breathing, faster heart rate, muscle tension, and heightened alertness. Basically, your internal smoke alarm goes off because you made toast.

Common symptoms include chest tightness, pounding heart, shortness of breath, dizziness, shaking, nausea, sweating, chills or heat, tingling, and feeling detached or unreal. Many people also fear they’re dying, losing control, or “going crazy.” Those thoughts aren’t you being dramaticthey’re a predictable brain response to a body that’s suddenly flooded with stress signals.

Panic Attack vs. “Anxiety Attack”

People use both terms, but “panic attack” has a specific clinical meaning. Anxiety can build gradually; panic tends to spike fast and intensely. Either way, the coping skills overlap. What mattered most for me was learning to respond to symptoms like they were uncomfortable but not dangerousbecause treating them like danger kept the loop alive.

The First Big Shift: I Stopped Treating Panic Like a Mystery Monster

My early strategy was basically: panic about the panic. I monitored every sensation like a detective who only watches true-crime documentaries. That hyper-focus made symptoms louder, which made me scan harder, which made my body more anxious. It was a self-funded panic subscription I never meant to sign up for.

The turning point was accepting a simple model:

• Trigger (stress, caffeine, conflict, health worry, random body sensation)
• Body alarm (adrenaline + fast breathing + racing heart)
• Catastrophic interpretation (“This means I’m in danger!”)
• More alarm (more adrenaline)
• Escape/safety behaviors (avoid places, check pulse, flee, reassurance-seek)
• Short-term relief (which teaches the brain “Yep, that was dangerous”)

Once I saw the pattern, I could interrupt it. Not perfectly. Not instantly. But consistently enough that my nervous system started to calm down faster.

My “During a Panic Attack” Plan (The 90-Second Foundation)

Panic often peaks quickly. The goal in the moment isn’t to “win” or force calmit’s to lower the fuel and ride the wave without adding fear to fear.

Step 1: Name It Without Negotiating With It

I used a short script: “This is a panic surge. It’s uncomfortable, not unsafe.” Naming it matters because it moves you from “mystery emergency” to “recognized pattern.” The body calms faster when the brain stops labeling sensations as threats.

If you like humor, try: “Oh lookmy smoke alarm is yelling about toast again.” Not to minimize your pain, but to break the spell that panic casts.

Step 2: Fix the Breathing Pattern (Not With Giant Gulps)

When panic hits, many people hyperventilatefast, shallow breathing that can cause lightheadedness, tingling, and chest tightness. Those sensations can feel like proof something is terribly wrong, which is exactly how panic recruits you.

What helped me was diaphragmatic breathing (belly breathing) and a longer exhale than inhale. I’d place one hand on my belly and one on my chest and aim for the belly hand to move more.

• Inhale gently through the nose for 3–4 counts
• Exhale slowly through the mouth for 5–7 counts
• Repeat for 2–3 minutes

Important: I stopped trying to inhale “extra deep” to fix panic. Big gulps can make dizziness worse. Gentle, steady, and slow was the move.

Step 3: Ground My Senses (Because Panic Lives in the Future)

Panic time-travels. It drags you into the future (“What if I faint?” “What if everyone sees?”). Grounding brings you back to the presentwhere, most of the time, you are actually okay.

My go-to was the 5-4-3-2-1 technique:

1. 5 things I can see
2. 4 things I can feel
3. 3 things I can hear
4. 2 things I can smell
5. 1 thing I can taste

Example: I once did this in a grocery store aisle while staring at cereal like it was a complicated math problem. I named five bright boxes, four textures (cart handle, shirt sleeve, shoe insole, cool air), three sounds (fridge hum, footsteps, distant music)… and my panic dropped from a 9 to a 6. That’s a win. A 6 is manageable.

Step 4: Unclench the “Emergency Posture”

Panic has a posture: tight jaw, raised shoulders, stiff hands, locked knees. I’d do a quick reset:

• Drop shoulders on the exhale
• Uncurl fingers
• Press feet into the ground
• Relax the tongue from the roof of the mouth

It sounds small, but the body and brain are in a constant text-message thread. When the body says “I’m safe,” the brain eventually reads it.

Step 5: Stop Feeding the Panic With Safety Behaviors

This one hurt my feelings because it worked. I used to check my pulse, google symptoms, flee places, or demand reassurance. Those behaviors gave short-term reliefbut long-term, they trained my brain to treat panic like a predator.

Instead, I practiced staying put (when safe) and doing one simple task: sip water, read a label, count backwards by threes, or text a friend: “Having a panic wave. I’m okay. Just riding it out.”

The Long-Term Fix: I Retrained My Alarm System

In-the-moment skills are essential, but I didn’t really improve until I changed the pattern underneath. That’s where evidence-based approaches like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and exposure come in.

CBT: The Skillset That Made Panic Less “Believable”

CBT helped me spot the thought-errors that poured gasoline on panic:

• Catastrophizing: “This feeling means I’m in danger.”
• Fortune-telling: “This will never end.”
• Body-as-proof thinking: “If my heart is racing, something must be wrong.”

I learned to replace them with realistic statements:

• “My body is having an adrenaline surge.”
• “This peaks and passes.”
• “Fast heart rate happens in anxiety, exercise, excitement, and fear.”

This wasn’t positive thinking. It was accurate thinkinglike switching from a horror movie narrator to a calm sports announcer. “And here we see the nervous system… doing the most.”

Interoceptive Exposure: Making Friends With Sensations

One of the most powerful CBT components for panic is interoceptive exposure, which means safely practicing the physical sensations you fear (like dizziness, breathlessness, or a racing heart) so your brain learns they’re not dangerous.

This is usually done with a clinician, especially if you have medical conditions. But the big idea is: the sensations become less scary when you stop avoiding them. Avoidance keeps the alarm sensitive; exposure lowers the sensitivity over time.

Example (conceptually): if dizziness scares you, a therapist might guide you through a safe exercise that briefly induces mild dizziness, then helps you notice it pass without catastrophe. The lesson becomes: “I can handle this.”

Situational Exposure: Re-entering the Places Panic Stole

Panic can shrink your world. I started avoiding stores, long lines, quiet classrooms, car ridesany place where I feared being “stuck.” So I built a ladder:

1. Stand in a short line for 2 minutes
2. Stand in a longer line for 5 minutes
3. Go to a store aisle that used to spike me
4. Stay until anxiety drops a notch

The rule I followed: don’t flee at the peak. Leaving at the worst moment taught my brain that escape “saved” me. Staying until it droppedeven slightlytaught my brain the opposite.

Medication: When It Helped (and What I Learned)

For some people, therapy is enough. For others, medication is part of the plan. Clinicians often use SSRIs (and sometimes SNRIs) for panic disorder, and in some cases benzodiazepines for short-term reliefthough those carry risks like dependence and aren’t a long-term strategy for many people.

My biggest takeaway wasn’t “meds vs. no meds.” It was: don’t white-knuckle this alone if it’s not improving. Panic is treatable, and you deserve treatment that fits your situationespecially if panic is frequent, intense, or shrinking your life.

If you’re a teen, it can help to involve a parent/guardian, pediatrician, or school counselor so you’re not trying to self-manage something that thrives in secrecy.

Lifestyle Tweaks That Quietly Lowered My Panic Frequency

I wanted a single magic trick. I got a checklist. (Rude, but effective.) These changes didn’t “cure” panic on their own, but they lowered my baseline stress so I had fewer sudden spikes.

Sleep: The Non-Negotiable

When I slept poorly, my body acted like everything was an emergency, including emails and mildly sad commercials. Regular sleep made my nervous system less jumpy.

Caffeine and Stimulants: The Sneaky Amplifiers

Caffeine can mimic panic sensations (racing heart, jitters), which can trigger panic in people who fear those sensations. I didn’t have to quit foreverbut I did experiment with reducing it, especially on stressful days.

Movement: Teaching My Body That a Fast Heart Isn’t Danger

Light to moderate exercise helped in two ways: it reduced overall stress, and it retrained my brain that a pounding heart can be normal. Even a brisk walk countedespecially if I practiced calm breathing during it.

Relaxation Skills: Practice When You’re Calm

Breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, and mindfulness worked best when I practiced them before panic hit. I treated it like brushing my teeth: not exciting, very worth it.

My “Panic Plan” Note (Copied Into My Phone)

This was the simplest thing that made me feel less helpless. I wrote it when I was calm, so I could read it when I wasn’t:

• Label: “Panic surge. Not dangerous.”
• Breathe: gentle inhale 4, slow exhale 6–7.
• Ground: 5-4-3-2-1 senses.
• Posture: shoulders down, feet planted, hands unclenched.
• Stay: don’t flee at the peak (when safe).
• After: write one sentence: “What triggered it? What helped?”

That last lineone sentenceturned panic from a scary mystery into data. Not cold data. Useful data. “Oh, interesting. I had three hours of sleep and two energy drinks, then argued with someone, then went into a crowded place. My nervous system was basically begging for a nap.”

When to Get Extra Support

If panic attacks are frequent, feel unbearable, cause you to avoid everyday life, or show up with depression or substance use, it’s time to get help from a professional. Effective treatments exist, and you don’t need to earn them by suffering longer.

Also: if symptoms are new, severe, or different from your usual patternespecially chest pain, fainting, or major shortness of breathget medical care. Panic is common, but your health still matters.

Closing Thoughts: What “Getting Hold” Really Means

I didn’t make panic disappear by force. I got hold of it by changing the relationship: I stopped treating sensations as a threat, stopped rewarding escape, and practiced skills that taught my nervous system to settle.

Panic shrinks when you respond with clarity instead of fear. And if you’re reading this hoping for a sign that you’re not broken: you’re not. You’re having a body-brain alarm problemand alarms can be retrained.

My Experience, in Practice (About )

Here’s what “getting hold of it” looked like in real lifenot in a perfect montage with inspirational music, but in the messy, ordinary version where I still had homework, errands, and a nervous system that occasionally acted like a raccoon in a trash can.

Week 1: I started by writing down what happened during attacks. Not a noveltwo lines. “Where was I? What did I think it meant?” The first pattern I noticed was that my panic loved surprises: a weird heartbeat after climbing stairs, a sudden dizzy moment when I stood up too fast, a crowded line when I was already stressed. I also noticed I kept doing the same “safety moves”: checking my pulse, scanning exits, leaving early, and replaying the moment afterward like my brain was filing a complaint.

Week 2: I practiced breathing when I wasn’t panicking. This felt pointless, like training for a storm by carrying an umbrella inside my house. But a few days later I had a panic spike in the car, and my body remembered the “long exhale” rhythm faster than my brain could freak out. The panic didn’t vanish. It dropped from “I must escape immediately” to “I can handle the next minute.” That was a huge change.

Week 3: I built a grounding habit. I picked one daily momentwaiting for a page to load, brushing my teeth, standing in an elevatorand ran 5-4-3-2-1 quickly. When panic hit in public, grounding felt less like a weird trick and more like a familiar routine. One time, I named five things I could see and realized one of them was a sign that said “NO RUNNING.” I laughed (quietly), which is honestly a criminally underrated anti-panic tool.

Week 4: I stopped fleeing at the peak. This was the hardest part. I chose tiny challenges: stay in a short line, stay in a meeting, stay in a classroom. I promised myself I could leave after two minutes of breathing and grounding. Most of the time, by the end of those two minutes, the wave had already dipped a notch. I learned that panic rises fast but it also changes fastif I didn’t throw fuel on it.

Week 5: I practiced “allowing” sensations. If my heart sped up, I tried saying, “Okay. Heart’s doing cardio without permission. Cool.” Instead of fighting the feeling, I let it be there while I kept doing something normalwalking, talking, finishing a task. That taught my brain the most powerful lesson: sensations can exist without an emergency.

Week 6 and beyond: The attacks got shorter and less frequent. I still had rough daysespecially with stress or poor sleepbut I stopped fearing the fear. And once panic lost the ability to terrify me, it lost a lot of its power. I didn’t become a different person. I just became someone with a plan.