Panic

Psalm 55:4-5 CEV: My heart is racing fast, and I am afraid of dying. I am trembling with fear, completely terrified.

I am diverging from my usual scriptural art reflections with this piece, exploring a topic not explicitly named in the Bible, yet, as this verse implies, clearly experienced.  

Last summer, I spent several months examining different facets of grief. As this summer draws to a close, I want to turn my attention to another deeply human experience: anxiety. I’ll begin with the form I know most personally: panic.

First, it would be important to distinguish among some of the words we toss around that fall within the same family of emotions.  Fear, for instance, is a natural and crucial emotion we experience in the face of an identifiable threat.  You hear an intruder or see a snake, and your body rightly feels fear and automatically prepares you to fight or flee.  

Anxiety, on the other hand, is the anticipation of a future or uncertain threat. The mind tries to prepare for a possibility that may or may not happen. Like fear, healthy anxiety is normal and serves an important function. Locking your doors at night to prevent an intruder or scanning the grass to avoid stepping on a snake are wise preparations brought about by small doses of anxiety. 

Panic is different. The body’s alarm system activates in the absence of an external danger. Sometimes it begins with nothing more than an internal sensation, like a wave of nausea, a skipped heartbeat, or a random thought. The brain mistakenly interprets it as a looming catastrophe.

Experiencing terror without anything to fight, flee from, or control creates its own trap. The fear shifts from an external threat to the panic itself. Each surge of adrenaline becomes evidence that something is terribly wrong, triggering still more panic until the cycle feeds itself. This broken cycle begins to feel inescapable and pervasive, operating without rhyme or reason and intensifying with each successive surge of adrenaline. 

For the most part, I can have a random, irrational thought trigger a brief blip of panic, ride it out, and understand what likely led to the attack.  However, every few years, it seems a wire gets tripped, and it’s as if I’ve been diverted onto a runaway roller coaster track with no end in sight.  With each successive drop, as I grip reality with every ounce of strength, I feel the rational parts of me disintegrating.  

I created this artwork of my experience with panic to acknowledge something profoundly important to those out there who have not experienced this feeling. That woman on the coaster can’t simply think, reason, journal, or even pray her way off the ride. In the middle of panic, those things often become difficult precisely because the brain’s alarm system has taken over.

That doesn’t mean those techniques and practices aren’t helpful. They absolutely are, and for many people they’re enough. But when my nervous system has been turned up to 3,000 RPM and the day becomes about survival and maintaining sanity, it’s time for medication management. 

Once the meds begin to work and I realize this out-of-control ride will end, I’m able to find comfort again in verses like this.  Comfort comes from reminding myself that I am not alone in my experience of panic and that even David had times of terror.  But I’m also comforted by the truth expressed later in this chapter when David writes, “We tell you what worries us, and you won’t let us fall.” (Vs 22).  I know that to be true, even when my feelings tell me otherwise.   

If you’ve experienced panic or another form of anxiety and feel comfortable sharing, I’d love to hear your story. I’m considering a series exploring different expressions of anxiety, and hearing others’ experiences will help shape future reflections. My hope is that, together, we can remind one another that we are not alone.