On The Other Side
I’ve had panic attacks before, but I’ve never been on the receiving end of one.
Even though it has - thankfully - been years since I experienced one myself, I knew what they sound like. Breathlessness, revving thoughts and words, inability to control anything, spiraling, down and down and down until it seems like nothing will ever be okay again.
I received a phone call from a close friend of mine who was in the middle of a panic attack this week. She’d been unexpectedly laid off, and the pressure of losing her job combined with other things had her breathing so fast and sobbing so hard that I couldn’t understand what she was trying to say to me. I couldn’t even tell what had happened until she texted me, and we had to text and be on the phone at the same time so that I could understand her words.
Until I heard her voice, I had almost forgotten what a panic attack sounded like, but it all came back to me in a rush. I had a lot of them in my junior year of college, and the one my friend was enduring seemed to be much the same as mine. She found herself unable to eat or drink, with a ton of restless energy, her thoughts spiraling out of control until they hit the “all or nothing” category.
I did cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) for this specific behavior, and it took me a long time to get past these kinds of thoughts. They’re particularly insidious - basically, it’s the kind of thought that makes you see the world in black and white. In other words, someone’s life is either perfect or so horrible that it couldn’t get worse; someone is either employed at the perfect job or completely unemployable; someone has a million people to confide in or is completely alone.
My friend and I had the same kind of thought when we were in this position: everything in life is horrible and can never get better. “I hate my life and everything in it,” she kept saying.
When faced with my own negative thought from years ago coming at me from a different source, I had no idea what to do. I tried to think back to my year in CBT, and eventually came up with something - I could help her disprove the idea that everything is awful by reminding her that some things aren’t. I couldn’t think of anything right away, since she was spiraling into negative thoughts about almost everything in her life at that point, but I did think of one thing - her cat.
I told her that her cat isn’t terrible. In fact, her cat has many adorable outfits, and she loves sending me pictures of her cat. It wasn’t genius, but it did break the thought cycle for at least a moment, until it got started again.
I’ve never understood the “common knowledge” that panic attacks are “supposed” to only last a few minutes. I have never had one shorter than an hour (complete with all the symptoms), and for my friend, it lasted most of the day - just like when I was at my worst.
When it’s that drawn out, the best thing for the person is to not feel alone. I had no intention of leaving her alone at any point throughout the day, so even though I am allergic to cats, I told her that my phone is open and she can text me and call me and do whatever else she needs since I couldn’t physically be there.
I ended up reading her resume, helping her find jobs to apply to, and listening to her for hours as she processed everything that happened and tried to find a way forward. I sat on the phone with her as she moved from hyperventilation to tears and back again, and kept checking on her in the following days to make sure I had done all I could. I tried to offer her all the kindness I received from my best friend when I was going through near-constant panic attacks, and although I can’t say I fixed any of her problems, I like to think I’ve helped in another way.
It was hard for me to try to both be close to my friend as well as distance myself from particularly caustic memories along the way. I kept reminding myself that it’s her, not me, currently struggling. That I’m okay. That I can see, smell, hear, touch, and taste things that remind me of the present (something called “grounding” that my new therapist has taught me). And I relayed this experience to my therapist to let her know what it felt like to observe a panic attack from the other side.
For anyone whose loved ones experience panic attacks, please consider being that shoulder to lean on, the person who helps bring them out from the darkness where it’s impossible to see or feel that anything can get better. It will mean more than you ever know, and although it’s overwhelming on both sides, you have the potential to truly help someone find their way back to feeling okay again.
Ellie, a writer in the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.