Thank you for flying with us today
Panic attacks in public are absolutely awful. Not only do you have to grapple with your paralyzing panic - doing whatever it takes to calm your frantic breathing, quiet your shaking hands, stop your anxious crying, slow your pounding heart beat, and will yourself to gain control- but you have to do so in front of rows and rows of judgmental Southwest passengers crammed on a packed flight that’s running late.
And the agitation even continues post panic attack when you’re trying to push back on feelings of embarrassment and shame which rattles your insecurities like a packet of complimentary honey roasted peanuts. Here you are sitting in seat C 11 trying to convince yourself that no one noticed and it wasn’t a big deal. But your clammy hands won’t stop fidgeting, your mascara has left charcoal smudges on the delicate skin under your eyes, and the guy who got the window seat is craning his neck to catch a glimpse as you produce an ativan — or two — from your purse.
Panic attacks are absolutely awful.
But, ultimately, the most important thing is that despite my panic disorder I do the things that scare me.
I have another flight scheduled next month.
