It's hard to forget that very first panic attack, especially when it comes out of the blue and you haven't a clue what the heck it was. I was at home alone, after a day at college, when a sense of intense fear swept over me. My mind was racing like crazy. My heart and breathing were probably at a high rate at that moment too, but the fear was so intense, I don't even remember any physical symptoms from that first attack. I remember my eyes "going funny" on me ... as if in viewing my surroundings, things were a bit blurry, distant, or not quite real. This symptom, known as derealization, was to become the symptom that would haunt me for a long period after that first panic attack.    I remember that night, it was as if all of my senses were on high alert, overstimulated, and unable to process what I was hearing, seeing, etc. For the most part, it was the fear, ... fear of what had just happened to me, fear of what it was, what it could do to me, was I "losing it", or maybe dying. I called my Mom that night, crying uncontrollably, trying to tell her what I was experiencing. And soon after, I somehow made my way to a relative that lived in my city, to seek some comfort. The drive over was equally scary, for I was very much shaken up by whatever it was that had happened to me.    This night happened in March of 1995. I had just turned 27 years old a couple months before that night. My Dad has just died from cancer a few months prior to this night, so initially I and others had thought that that night's experience was a (delayed?) reaction of grief of the loss of my father (he was only 54 years old at the time of his passing - God rest his soul). And this hasty assumption was all that I had as an explanation for what I had experienced that night, and what I continued to experience from then on ... for months and months.    And so the spring of that year continued on in the same fashion, ... my experiencing these unexplainable attacks, intense fear, unreality feelings, and acute anxiety and growing depression developing with the passing of time. How I managed to finish college, I have no idea - I was, as some say, "a mess" but managed to finish my work with respectable grades. And right after school was done, I packed up all my things and lived back at home with Mom for the summer. It was hard for Mom too, for she didn't know what I was going through, what to say to comfort me, or what to do to help, besides pray.    The fear, anxiety, and depressive feelings were with me almost constantly and, as a result, my life became quickly limited. I spent most of my time at home, reading Christian works and talking with family friends and relatives about life, spirituality, and my Dad, in thinking still that this all was some sort of complex grieving process.    I even scoured my psychology textbooks (yes, believe it or not, my degree from college was in psychology), yet I could not pinpoint in my books what I might be going through. I spoke with a few health professionals in town, was put on imipramine medication, and had a handful of counselling sessions. Unfortunately, the medication had no effect and the health professionals were unable to diagnose me (properly) or help with their words of comfort and advice. The attacks still persisted, with great intensity, the fear and unreality didn't let up one bit, and I grew exhausted, frightened, and increasingly hopeless. I became agoraphobic almost completely by that point ... being afraid even to go into the backyard to enjoy the summer sun, let alone go downtown to shop, drive around (I had attacks in my car so I wasn't driving much), or visit friends and family. What was going on? Why didn't we have an explanation for all this? What was to become of me?    About five months after that initial panic attack and the start of daily anxiety and depression, my Mom made "that phone call", a call to my uncle out of town, ... the phone call that finally marked the beginning of answers, competent help, and recovery. My uncle is a doctor and she sought his advice and help. He quickly set up an appointment for me with a psychiatrist in the hospital in his city and I made my way there to see this new doctor, ... and thank God for that day!! I met with the psychiatrist and talked of my experiences. It took him all of a minute to say, "well, it's panic disorder that you are experiencing." Just like that, I had found someone who knew the answers. He said to stop the imipramine medication immediately, and instead I was to start on Paxil and Xanax medications. He knew I was thinking of moving to the city that my brother lived in, so he suggested I contact someone there for counselling. And that's all that happened at that appointment with this new doctor. But boy, did he change my life, for the better.    I wasn't crazy about being on medication, but after several months of sheer agony, I was game for anything that would help me. And I sure am glad that I started on the medication this doctor has prescribed for me. For almost immediately, it had a positive effect on the panic attacks, in their frequency, intensity, and duration. I did indeed finally leave Mom's house and moved to my current city, to restart my life in the company of my caring brother.    It was slow going at first ... I just stayed at my brother's home, got to know the city, and took each day as they came, while my panic, anxiety, and depression slowly (but surely) improved. The improvement was not without bumps and bruises however, for recovery is normally marked by setbacks and stalls ... two steps forward, one step back. The setbacks took some getting used to. I did, as the doctor suggested, contact a clinic here to seek some counselling. And that was a tremendous decision for me, as I met with and got help from one of the best psychologists anyone can find. She was great. She understood all that I told her, and her support was steadfast, compassionate, and always encouraging, always words to develop my confidence and hope.    It was a big step for me, but I eventually moved from my brother's home to my own place, and even eventually found work and had a job. But it all took a lot of effort, a lot of self-confidence, commitment, and hope, ... to allow the meds to do their thing, to take setbacks in stride (knowing that I wasn't falling back to "square one"), and to get back into driving, doing things on my own, and just "being", "living", with a sense of peace, optimism, and hope. Sure, I still had moments of fear that I wouldn't recover fully, for doubt and being scared in totally natural. But instead of succumbing to negative thinking, I found the courage (as you can too) to keep moving forward. To make a long story short, indeed recovery was to happen. I persevered through months of continued sporadic panic, anxiety, and depression, but it all improved with the passage of time, and now ... years after that initial panic attack, I am happy to say that I have my life back, in all its fullness ... feeling strength, hope, and peace.    So what worked for me? What did I learn to help me? How did I find healing? Well, medication definitely was necessary (for me), as my symptoms just wouldn't settle down initially without them. Some people have not had success with Paxil (an SSRI anti-depressant) in use for their panic, but it worked wonders for me. And initially, I took Xanax (a benzodiazepine tranquilizer) every once in a while, to receive an immediate relief from anxiety. That, and later on, Clonazepam (another benzo), I took on an "as needed" basis, and they indeed helped me as well a great deal. Currently, I rarely take a benzo, but I still take Paxil every day, and will do so for an indefinite period - it gave me my life back so I'm fine with a life that includes meds.    The counselling absolutely aided me tremendously, but I was lucky, ... lucky to find a competent, knowledgeable, and caring therapist ... something others have to search long and hard for (so I pray that, if you wish to seek help, that you find someone as competent as my counsellor). I had sessions with Dallas for about a year or more, then I just touched base every so often just to say what's going on. Initially, I couldn't foresee a life without her, but yep, I'm on my own two feet now, and therapy ended a long time ago.    Support was a big help for me (as I believe it to be for everyone), and I received that from family, friends, my doctor and therapist, and also from a local anxiety disorder support group ... a tremendous group of loving and understanding people, also having experienced all the misery I had. At first I didn't even know that anyone else even had panic attacks like me ... what a relief to know I wasn't the only one.    A big help for me as well, was in learning about panic, anxiety, and depression, ... learning that these experiences are as normal as the sun rising and setting, ... normal body and mind responses to stress, grief, trauma, etc. I was normal! And you are too. Reading up on these things helped me to understand what my body was doing during moments of anxiety, and in knowing what my body was doing (and knowing I could control it), my mind was eased in knowing that it was "a little anxiety" or a mood swing, ... nothing pathological that indicated disease or mental illness. I worked to develop strength, relaxation, and coping skills as well. I learned of proper, diaphragmic breathing, visualization, and positive thinking. And that's a biggie ... positive thinking ... don't leave home without it! For if you don't believe that you can recover, you won't ... but if you believe and develop faith, I promise you, you will indeed receive healing. I cannot stress enough the importance of thinking positively, even amidst all of panic, anxiety, and depression (I know it's hard to do, but it is so important). You can stop an attack from even starting just by saying and thinking "I feel a symptom and that's all it is, a symptom, and not something pathological. It's no big deal, I won't let it scare me, and I'll pay it no attention ..." and sure enough, without injecting added fear and anxiety into the moment, the pre-panic moment leads to nothing - no attack! Same goes for depressive moods - thinking positively despite feeling so low, will bring you back up to a better, happier frame of mind. Okay, enough of positive thinking stuff ... I think you get the idea.    For me, as well, I also incorporated vitamins and some natural remedies into my life, to aid my body in coping with stress and difficulties. In particular, I took vitamin B complex, calcium/magnesium, and herbs such as valerian (very good!), chamomile, and passionflower. A general healthy diet (with or without supplements) is important, along with some exercise. I can't call myself a health nut or an avid athlete, but I can say that making a few changes in diet and exercise can work wonders. For me, when a little anxiety would hit me, a good brisk 10-15 minutes on my stationary bike or stepper would burn up that anxious energy - no kidding!, it works.    But in looking back over these past several years, I would say that what helped me the most was ... faith, patience, and perseverance. Faith in my meds, my health care professionals, and in my own strengths, faith in knowing that all these things (with God's help), would result in recovery. Faith in the steadfast possibility of recovery, despite the misery. And patience, ... hmmm, very hard to develop when you're feeling continued panic and major depression, but absolutely necessary. One cannot force healing, ... one has to allow it to occur at its own pace. And that pace can be slow, but that doesn't mean healing will not occur. If your leg was broken in several places, it would not heal overnight. Same goes for panic, anxiety, and depression. And perseverance and personal tenacity ... I pray that anyone that is stricken with panic, anxiety, agoraphobia, or depression, will develop these two things.    For me, it was a continued personal effort to face each day with hope, get in my car to drive again, despite the fear, go to places (either with others or alone), despite anxiety and feelings of derealization, just living life, doing anything, ... despite the fear, anxiety, or sadness. Marilyn Ferguson says it best in her quote ... "ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is a freedom". It is like literally "taking the bull by the horns" and facing the fears, walking right through them with your head held high, and finding the peace and light on the other side. I found the peace and light again, and there is no doubt that you can too. Perchance to believe ... .    If you are struggling with panic, anxiety, depression, or anything like that, I sincerely hope that my story has given you a spark of hope, a hope that indeed, you can and will find recovery as well. Thank you ever so much for taking the time to read my story. [ My Story ][ Diagnosis ][ Suspect A Problem ][ Treatment Options ][ Herbs & Natural Remedies ] [ Links ][ Suggested Reading ][ Christian Support ][ Inspirational Quotes ][ Main Page ]