What Panic Attacks Taught Me About Trusting My Body

I want to share something quite personal today. I am not sharing this because I have found THE answer to panic attacks, or because I believe that my experience will be the same as yours. Panic attacks can have very different causes, triggers and presentations, and if you are experiencing them, particularly if they are new or unexplained, my first advice would always be to speak to a qualified healthcare professional and explore what may be underlying them.

What I am sharing here is simply my own experience and what I learned from living through it.

As a child, I experienced what I now recognise as panic attacks a few times. At the time, I had absolutely no idea what was happening to me. I could not understand why my body would suddenly become so overwhelmed, and my response was often to freeze and disconnect.

From around the age of 18 and throughout much of my twenties, these experiences became more frequent. They tended to happen in situations where I felt trapped: in a small or enclosed space, on the Underground, on a train, in a lift, or somewhere with a lot of people where I felt that I could not simply choose to leave.

The attacks often seemed to come completely out of nowhere. Suddenly, my body would become incredibly hot, I would struggle to breathe and swallow, my vision would become blurry and my heart would start racing. My whole body would tense and I could feel completely disconnected from what was happening around me. I did not understand why it was happening or what was happening to my body, and more than anything, I wanted to escape.

Not just the situation. I wanted to escape my own body.

I remember several occasions when the doors of the Underground or train finally opened and I would literally run out. I wasn't really running towards somewhere; I was running away from the sensations I was experiencing. I wanted to get away from the heat, the racing heart, the difficulty breathing and the overwhelming fear.

What I eventually began to notice was that the more desperately I tried to escape those sensations, the more intense they seemed to become.

Over the years, I did a lot of personal work around this, and at some point someone said something to me that completely changed the way I approached panic: trust yourself enough to stay with it.

Instead of immediately trying to make the sensations stop, I could give them some space and simply notice what was happening. I could notice that my breathing was becoming faster, that my vision was changing, that my body was tense and that my heart was beating more quickly. I could notice that I was frightened without immediately trying to work out why it was happening or what the consequences might be.

This was incredibly difficult at first. There were times when I cried because I felt so powerless and so frightened. In some ways, I was frightened not only of the panic itself, but of the fear I was experiencing and the possibility that I would not be able to escape it.

But slowly, I began to discover something that became very important for me: the experience passed.

I could feel completely overwhelmed and still get through it. I could stay with those sensations without running away from them, and eventually they would begin to subside. I didn't have to make them stop. I didn't have to find a way out. I could allow the experience to move through me and trust that it would not last forever.

With time, this changed my relationship with panic. I stopped living in such constant fear of the next attack. I didn't feel that I needed to know where the nearest exit was or constantly think about what I would do if it happened again.

Instead, I started developing a different kind of trust in myself: if it happened, I would stay with myself through it.

This was an important distinction for me because I also realised that the techniques I had available to me during a panic attack were not necessarily what I needed most in the middle of it. Breathing exercises, tapping, relaxation techniques and other tools can be incredibly helpful, and I still use many different approaches to support my nervous system. But for me, trying desperately to make the panic stop could sometimes become another form of resistance.

What helped me more was learning to stop fighting the experience while I was in it.

Then, once the wave had passed, I could support my body in returning to a sense of safety. I could slow my breathing, feel my body, orient myself to my surroundings, move, ground myself and reconnect with the present moment. At that point, these practices felt very different because I wasn't using them to desperately get rid of something I was afraid of. I was using them to help my body recognise that the experience was over and that I was safe in the present moment.

Over time, I also became much more aware of what was happening in my body before I reached that point.

Today, I know that there are certain circumstances that can make me more vulnerable to feeling highly activated. For me, too much caffeine, particularly combined with sugar (yup, no more coffee and cake for me!), not drinking enough water, not nourishing myself properly, or ignoring smaller signs of tension and stress in my body for too long can all contribute to me feeling more dysregulated.

I am not suggesting that coffee, sugar or dehydration cause panic attacks in everyone. They don't. I simply know my own body well enough now to recognise the circumstances in which I am more likely to become highly activated, and I try not to ignore those signals.

I pay attention to how I am feeling throughout the day. I try to nourish and hydrate myself properly, allow myself enough rest and notice when I am carrying more tension than usual. Rather than waiting until my body is shouting at me, I try to listen when the signals are still small.

And perhaps one of the biggest changes has been that I no longer see my body as something that might suddenly betray me.

I have learned to trust it.

That doesn't mean that I never experience anxiety, stress, uncomfortable sensations or periods of intense activation. It means that I no longer automatically interpret every uncomfortable sensation as a sign that something is wrong or that I need to escape.

And after many years, I haven't experienced another panic attack.

I also want to be very clear that this is not a suggestion that everyone should simply sit with a panic attack and wait for it to pass. There are many different reasons why someone may experience panic, and sometimes panic-like symptoms can be related to underlying physical or psychological health conditions that need proper assessment and support. If you are experiencing new, severe or unexplained symptoms, please speak to an appropriate healthcare professional.

But I wanted to share my experience because I remember how frightening it was to feel as though my own body had suddenly become a place I needed to escape from.

For me, one of the biggest shifts was moving from asking myself, “How do I stop this?” to asking, “Can I stay with myself while this passes?”

That shift didn't happen overnight, and it wasn't easy. But gradually, it changed my relationship with panic.

I no longer needed to be completely certain that panic would never happen again. I simply developed enough trust in myself to know that, if it did, I would be able to stay with myself through it.

And perhaps that is one of the most important things I have learned through all of this: sometimes feeling safe isn't about making sure that nothing uncomfortable ever happens. Sometimes it is about developing enough trust in yourself to know that you can meet what arises and come back to safety afterwards.

If you have experienced panic attacks yourself, I would genuinely love to hear about your experience. What did they feel like for you? Did you develop a fear of the next attack? And is there anything that helps you begin to feel safer in your own body again?

Perhaps by sharing our experiences, we can help someone else feel a little less alone.