“What nearly broke us becomes a light for someone else, if we’re brave enough to share.” In this journey of mine called life, I have faced many challenges today I will share one which I am proud to overcome. In the past, I used to be terrified of something as basic as sleeping, or an aeroplane trip, or a typical meeting at work.

My mind chose to deceive me in those moments, not because anything negative ever happened, but because I was unable to overcome that sense of doom that was incomprehensible, with a racing heart, breathlessness, a creeping fear of something uncontrollable etc. Although that time I was unaware that its a panic disorder. It took me years, a sympathetic mindfulness coach, and a great deal of introspection to figure out how to express the worries that were silently eating away at me.

The first time it happened, I was 35, midair on a flight from Delhi to Goa. It was my first vacation after 10 years of non stop working, I was so happy, relaxed and in a very good mood, Goa had been on my checklist for years. As I looked out the window into the blue abyss, something shifted. I felt a tightening in my chest, my hands went numb, my heartbeat thundered, and I couldn’t breathe. I never take window seat since then, as that day I just gathered all my strength and moved out of the seat and sat near the air hostesses area for almost 15-20 mins on floor of an aircraft to feel better, but I was drained, felt someone has eaten up all my energy. I thought it was a heart attack.

But it wasn’t.

It was a panic attack.

As I landed, I just didn’t go anywhere as per the itinerary, but went straight to a doctor for ECG, everything was fine , I had some sigh of relief , then I went hotel and just stayed on bed analysing what just happened, I never had any flight fear, height fear, neither am I claustrophobic , then what was that. Next day morning, I just shrugged it off as if nothing happened, and buried the experience under layers of forced normalcy.

But it returned.

Months later, I started waking up in the middle of the night—drenched in sweat, heart pounding, gasping for air. I would sit upright in bed, unable to comprehend what was happening. Some nights I felt like I would die in my sleep.

Medical tests said I was “fine.”

But I wasn’t.

Sleep became a battlefield. I feared going to bed. And if I did fall asleep, I dreaded what might wake me up again.

The most bewildering panic attack came during a perfectly calm meeting. I was speaking, presenting something I had prepared thoroughly, when my throat closed up, my heart galloped, and I had to excuse myself. The irony? I was being praised for my composure just five minutes before.

I had mastered the art of pretending to be okay.

The truth? I was exhausted. Not physically—but mentally. Constantly fighting invisible enemies, mostly rooted in fears I couldn’t name or explain.

What is a Panic Attack ?

It took me months of reading, therapy, and guidance to finally understand what was happening. According to the American Psychological Association (APA), panic attacks are sudden periods of intense fear or discomfort that reach a peak within minutes. The symptoms include:

• Pounding or racing heart
• Sweating
• Trembling or shaking
• Shortness of breath
• Nausea
• Dizziness
• Fear of losing control or dying

They often have no obvious trigger and can occur anytime—even in sleep.

What I didn’t know then, and what I’ve since discovered, is that panic is often a signal from the subconscious mind, not the body. It’s the soul’s SOS—a deep call for attention.

Understand that It’s Deep Rooted:

According to a study I once read in the Journal of Anxiety Disorders, unresolved trauma, repressed emotions, and ongoing stress are frequently linked to panic attacks.

Within Indian philosophy, the Upanishads and Bhagavad Gita discuss “chitta vrittis”—mental oscillations that disrupt inner tranquilly. When these changes are not noticed, they show up as mental instability, illnesses, and yes, even physical symptoms like panic attacks.

Every fear, every hurt, every unresolved emotion—all of these impressions, or samskaras—are stored in the mind. Additionally, they exhibit strange, unpleasant methods of expressing themselves if they are not freed.

The inner turmoil that had been neglected for years was the source of my anxiety, not the flight, the bed, or the office.

It was around this time that I began working with my mindfulness coach, Varshaa. She didn’t promise me a cure. She promised presence.

She helped me slowly observe my fears without judgment. Through simple practices like breath awareness, body scans, and journaling, I began to map the inner architecture of my panic:

• I learned to catch the first signs: the tightening jaw, the quickening pulse.
• I started pausing and grounding myself with simple mantras like “I am safe. I am present.”
• I stopped running from the fear and started sitting with it—curious, open, kind attitude towards my ownself.
• I started forgiving my ownself and stopped being hard on myself.
• I started asking for help when I needed it

What we don’t understand is that we don’t need to fight it, we need to accept it.

We often believe we must conquer fear. But what if fear is not the enemy?

One of the greatest shifts for me was understanding that fear is information. It’s the part of me that’s been unheard. I stopped asking, “How do I get rid of this?” and started asking, “What are you trying to tell me?”

This is where both modern psychology and ancient Indian thought beautifully align.

• The Polyvagal Theory by Dr. Stephen Porges talks about the body’s nervous system detecting threat and shutting down.
• The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali teach us Abhyasa (practice) and Vairagya (detachment)—the consistent practice of observation and letting go.

Together, these two lenses taught me to see my anxiety and panic as visitors, not permanent residents.

One of the hardest parts of panic attacks is how invisible and isolating they are. You could be in a crowded room, smiling, even performing well—and inside, you’re disintegrating.

It’s unexplainable. Often misunderstood.

And because we fear being judged, we stay silent. many might be doing it around us, that’s why its always said don’t just judge people in one instance, be kind and accept them as they are. We don’t know who is going through what at that moment when we have our goals and agenda and expectations hovering.

But what I learnt is silence only feeds the shame. And shame fuels the panic.

Only when I began speaking—first to my coach, then to close friends—did the healing begin.

Today, I still have anxious days. But panic no longer rules my life. It no longer has the power to hijack my breath or my peace.

Here’s what helped me most:

1. Mindful Observation – Watching the thoughts without reacting to them.
2. Breathwork (Pranayama) – Particularly Nadi Shodhana (alternate nostril breathing) to calm the nervous system.
3. Journaling – Naming the fears, capturing their patterns, understanding the roots.
4. Physical Grounding – Walking barefoot, placing a hand on the heart, feeling the now.
5. Spiritual Anchors – Regularly reading something meaningful, and reflecting on detachment from outcomes.
6. Professional Help – Therapy and coaching made the invisible visible and gave me tools.

If you’ve ever had a panic attack, or still do—know this: you are not broken. You are not weak. You are human.

The body and mind are trying to speak.

Listen.

Let someone in. Seek help. Start observing. Start breathing consciously. Go inward. Fear is just a messenger.

And healing—though slow and imperfect—is entirely possible.

If I could capture my fears and sit with them gently, so can you.

You’re not alone.