Panic! In the metro
I had my very first panic attack yesterday. It was scary and interesting at the same time, though I do feel for people who get them regularly as they are more than a little disruptive.
In my case, I suspect it was systems overload. I had had a tough morning and had ventured out into the overcrowded Mexico City metro system with my nervous system more than a little fragile. Sitting on the first train, I was fighting back tears, tilting my head up to prevent them from going anywhere. By the time I had exited that first train and begun the underground trek to change lines, I could feel myself start to lose control: my breathing accelerated, my heart rate must have doubled, my body started to shake. By the time we were on the second train, I was in full hyperventilation and my vision was fading in and out. I was terrified that I was going to pass out right there, in the middle of the cd barkers and metro users and gawking men.
(Side rant: Why gawk when you can tell someone is distressed? Help out or look away and pretend you haven’t noticed. It’s remarkably embarrassing to be in distress in a public place anyway – why make it worse? Jerks.)
Throughout this time, my mind was remarkably clear. “Pavel,” I gasped in between heaves, “I’m about to have a panic attack.” I was trying to force myself to breath more slowly, in through the nose/out through the mouth, and joking feebly about my inability to make a dent in the panic level. As my body twitched and writhed, I was making silent notes of curiosity about my core temperature, the frequency of blackout moments in relation to the severity of the hyperventilation, the relationship between heartbeat and trembling limbs.
It took a remarkably long time for me to recover my breathing, slumped in a reasonably empty stairwell, Pavel reading his magazine patiently on the step below me. My heartrate continued for much of the day, as did the shaky legs. The wavering consciousness, thankfully, faded with the breathing issues.
It was… wild.
I mean really really incredible. Utterly fascinating. A total loss of physical control, no mind over matter possible. The animal body, perhaps, except I’m not entirely sure how my biological self benefits from a panic attack: had a lion been about to eat me, I would have gazed bemusedly with out-of-focus eyes as he ran off with my lower half. Not a great survival technique, really.
This has nothing to do with Mexico, per se, although it did happen while IN Mexico and hence is here. I just felt like sharing.
I am, incidentally, feeling much better today.
In my case, I suspect it was systems overload. I had had a tough morning and had ventured out into the overcrowded Mexico City metro system with my nervous system more than a little fragile. Sitting on the first train, I was fighting back tears, tilting my head up to prevent them from going anywhere. By the time I had exited that first train and begun the underground trek to change lines, I could feel myself start to lose control: my breathing accelerated, my heart rate must have doubled, my body started to shake. By the time we were on the second train, I was in full hyperventilation and my vision was fading in and out. I was terrified that I was going to pass out right there, in the middle of the cd barkers and metro users and gawking men.
(Side rant: Why gawk when you can tell someone is distressed? Help out or look away and pretend you haven’t noticed. It’s remarkably embarrassing to be in distress in a public place anyway – why make it worse? Jerks.)
Throughout this time, my mind was remarkably clear. “Pavel,” I gasped in between heaves, “I’m about to have a panic attack.” I was trying to force myself to breath more slowly, in through the nose/out through the mouth, and joking feebly about my inability to make a dent in the panic level. As my body twitched and writhed, I was making silent notes of curiosity about my core temperature, the frequency of blackout moments in relation to the severity of the hyperventilation, the relationship between heartbeat and trembling limbs.
It took a remarkably long time for me to recover my breathing, slumped in a reasonably empty stairwell, Pavel reading his magazine patiently on the step below me. My heartrate continued for much of the day, as did the shaky legs. The wavering consciousness, thankfully, faded with the breathing issues.
It was… wild.
I mean really really incredible. Utterly fascinating. A total loss of physical control, no mind over matter possible. The animal body, perhaps, except I’m not entirely sure how my biological self benefits from a panic attack: had a lion been about to eat me, I would have gazed bemusedly with out-of-focus eyes as he ran off with my lower half. Not a great survival technique, really.
This has nothing to do with Mexico, per se, although it did happen while IN Mexico and hence is here. I just felt like sharing.
I am, incidentally, feeling much better today.
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