It All Started With A Panic Attack

Or: the day that I knew my life needed to change

It all started with a panic attack. Or did it? I still don’t really know. I usually call it a panic attack when I share my story. People seem to have a general idea of what a panic attack might look like even if they don’t know exactly. It has a bit of a shock factor, too, I will admit; at least it conveys the seriousness of it. Maybe it was an anxiety attack? Or a meltdown? Enough with the speculation. Do we have to give everything a name? Label everything? Well it helps when you’re publishing your first newsletter article I think?

It was a Thursday morning sometime in the summer or fall of 2021. I remember it was warm enough to be outside - I see myself in my backyard, over by the chicken coop, with my dog close by, on the phone with my sister halfway across the world, still crying, but slowly regulating.

I remember it was a Thursday, because Thursdays were WBR days. Weekly Business Reviews at Amazon. I know for a fact that I wasn’t the only one whose anxiety rose to often unmanageable levels on those days. We usually showed up, played our part for the duration of the meeting; on some days only to cry afterward, on others to become numb and just keep moving along, so we could at least say we tried.

On this particular Thursday morning, I found myself staring at my screen, in my home office upstairs, my dog hanging out next to me, trying to make sense of last week’s metrics, when I realized that silent tears were just streaming down my face. I can’t say I was surprised about the tears; I was surprised that I had lost track of time, that I seemed to have dissociated for a moment, that I hadn’t realized it right away when I started crying. It was strange how calm the rest of my body was. Not the good kind of calm; It felt like it was just happening to me; It felt out of control, and also like I had resigned to whatever was happening. I think I understood fully at that moment, that this was a turning point.

Once realization hit what was happening, the meeting only minutes away, I quickly sent my manager a message on Slack. I don’t remember the words exactly, but probably something along the lines of “I’m not feeling well this morning. I can’t make it to the meeting today”. I had long ago stopped apologizing for needing to take a day off on short notice; “I’m not feeling well” was my line that could both mean physically or mentally unwell without having to specify.

On some days, when I wanted to set a good example, I’d say “I’m taking a mental health day” instead, but on this specific day, I just needed to get out, to get away.

A shower seemed like a good idea. I find showers calming; my mind is free to go wherever it needs to go and the pressure of hot water on my body is stimulating enough for me to not feel like I need to move my body but don’t know how.

I cried and I cried and I cried. I remember noticing how long it took for me to catch my breath. This was no longer the silent tears streaming down my face crying. It felt panicky because I didn’t seem to be able to calm myself down. I have no idea how long I was in the shower for. I don’t remember when I decided to get out.

The next thing I do remember is being outside, my sister on the phone with me. I don’t remember exactly what we said, what I said, what she said. This would be only the first of many long phone conversations over the next 2+ years during which we unpacked work culture, capitalism, the patriarchy, our childhood, our teenage years, our neurotype, our future, relationships, and so much more.

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As you can tell, I am getting personal here. I invite you to follow along as I re-tell the story of how I got here.

I hope this creates an interesting contrast to my more positive and forward-looking LinkedIn posts. More richness, nuance, honesty, and openness is what I’m aiming for. If it resonates, I hope you find comfort in knowing you’re not alone.

Feel free to message me, I’d love to hear from you.

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Continue this series…