Panic

On a cool Sunday afternoon, last November, I decided I had procrastinated long enough: it was finally time I submit my university applications. I settled down on my bed and reached over to grab the envelope that the school had given me months before, realizing how much I had been dreading this. I slit the envelope open with my fingernail and slowly pulled out the sheet of paper containing my OUAC pin. However, as I lifted the lid of my computer, I realized the importance of the task I was about to complete. The choices I would make at that moment would inadvertently determine the rest of my life. I began to feel anxious as a blitzkrieg of thoughts invaded my mind: Where should I apply? Do I want to live at home or go away? What if I get rejected from all the programs? Do I even want to go into business? Where are my friends going? These questions unfailingly heightened my stress, and I suddenly felt very overwhelmed. I had never been good at making decisions.

My eyes began to tear up and I felt my chest tighten, but it was unlike any breakdown I had experienced in the past. I sensed my heartbeat increase rapidly until it became a jackhammer rattling my ribcage, leaving my whole body trembling. The uncomfortable sensations triggered a stampede of thoughts that flooded my mind: what is happening? What if I can’t calm down? Am I going to die? I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. I fought to keep my breaths slow and controlled but they escaped my mouth in desperate gasps; it seemed the harder I tried to breathe, the less air I was able to inhale. My lungs felt as though they had expanded to their maximum capacity, leaving my chest aching in protest. My vision became increasingly darker, narrower: kaleidoscopic. Despite the comforting colours I knew were present in my room, I only saw black.

Darkness. Every evening, the radiant sun dips below the horizon and the light slowly disappears in a majestic arrangement of vibrant, enchanting hues. But as these lively colours fade they are replaced with inescapable dusk, accompanied by the unsettling feeling brought upon us by no other than darkness. But this unnerving feeling isn’t rooted from darkness itself, but rather what the darkness masks. Darkness is where the monsters under our beds come alive, feeding off of our fear of the unknown, creating the feeling of utmost panic.

As I finally regained control of my breaths and secured a grasp on reality, I realized I had just suffered my first panic attack. What I didn’t realize, was that they would continue regularly throughout my last year of high school. Just how dusk creeps up on the day, fear creeps over my body in gradual, uncontrollable stages. It starts with a minute symptom, a chill travelling down my spine, and progresses until all the light has drained out of me, leaving me in complete darkness. Like entering a pitch black corridor, my senses are heightened and I am aware of every sound and movement around me. I want nothing more than to run to freedom but I am paralyzed, unable to escape my fear: the monster underneath my bed.

However, just as the sun sets, it also rises. Each morning, a glimpse of the golden rays peak over the horizon, dismissing the monsters from under our bed, washing relief over us as a new day begins. Its beauty allows us to nearly forget the horrors and darkness that existed only hours before. Each time I experience an attack I find it easier to cope. I have learned to gain comfort in knowing that although darkness exists, it will always be overcome by the warmth of morning. Although you may not know what lies beyond a pitch black corridor, just know the comforting rays of the sun will reach even the darkest places. Soon your surroundings will be bright enough to see that there was never a true monster threatening you, just the fear your mind created.