Panic Attacks

Anyone who has spent any amount of time on this globe will experience panic attacks. These attacks can be initiated by any number of things. It could be as simple as forgetting an appointment, news of a gravely ill loved one, uncertainty about the future, dimming prospects, and the list goes on. These attacks rush in and leave us stunned and silent, fighting the impulse to run and hide.

I have had more attacks than what I consider my share. Gravely ill children, my mother passing away, jobs lost, circumstances far beyond my control. These have become such a part of my world that I can predict where I am in the process. By the way, this self awareness does not minimize the impact, it merely helps me understand where I am.

So what does it look like in my world? The news comes blasting in from left field. Usually I am in involved in the most mundane activities. It takes a few moments to realize what is happening, then the inevitable casting about for alternatives that must be considered..it is a joke, it is not possible, it is not serious (although it sounds terrible) my mind wanders all over for a moment. Then the confirmation that, yes indeed, there is a serious problem. Then the continuing process of trying to decide what to do, when, and what are the consequences.

But in the midst of all the processing of the news is the physical impact of the attack. My bride's response is to stop eating. When we share the event we develop a "battle speak" that gives the other one clues about where we are. She will get up and out to release a little of the tension. I will wait and then try to see if I can help. My response is to feel like I can't quite catch a deep enough breath, there is a heavy feeling in my chest, and most embarrassing of all, I feel like I am going to burst into tears at any little thing.

Here are a few things we have learned about these attacks. Stay busy. Keep your hands busy, keep your head busy. We had such an event this past weekend and my bride worked feverishly on a quilt, I washed/folded/put away clothes, washed dishes, anything to keep busy. But the real work, the real effort is to continue to hand this event over to the One who can comfort, can work it out, does see the future. So while I am folding a tee-shirt, I say a prayer, then the next set of socks, prayer, drinking glass in the dishwasher, prayer, pick up a stray toy, prayer...

There is something inside me that makes me think these attacks are somehow nonspiritual. That they reflect a shallow or imperfect faith. When I compare my experience to those around me I wonder why I can't seem to find the ability to be joyful when it feels that my world is crumbling from under my feet. But I have learned that my nature does not gloss the circumstances. In fact, my head runs through all the thought strings and some of them are terrifying. So how to deal with this dissonance.

In the old book I find my savior praying to the point of sweating blood. I find a plea to change the inevitable conclusion to the story. I find the authors of all the books peering into the face of disaster, feeling the panic, and then submitting to the events and clinging desperately to the thin rope of faith. When I find people who are in the midst of the same type of attacks I advise them to ignore the impulse to evaluate their faith. I encourage them to simply trust it. The roller-coaster of emotions are natural and God-given.

As in this past weekend, we found some answers, we found some equilibrium, we have found a moment to set aside the battle armor from other attacks. We still find ourselves worn out from the ordeal, but the smoke has cleared and the losses were minimal.

Godspeed to those who are in the midst of these attacks. Cling tight to your faith, let go the notion that you should act in any certain way.

Don