Panic disorder and agoraphobia are associated with very strong physical and emotional experiences. If you have had a panic attack in the past, you know how overwhelming the sensations can feel.
I recently read the fictional book All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr and was gripped by this powerful description of a character’s panic when trying to leave the house after staying inside for years. The author did a phenomenal job capturing the physical and mental aspects of panic.
“Now Etienne hyperventilates. At thirty-four minutes by his wristwatch, he puts on his shoes and a hat that belonged to his father. Stands in the foyer summoning all his resolve. When he last went out, almost twenty-four years ago, he tried to make eye contact, to present what might be considered a normal appearance. But the attacks were sly, unpredictable, devastating; they sneaked up on him like bandits. First a terrible ominousness would fill the air. Then any light, even through closed eyelids became excruciatingly bright. He could not walk for the thundering of his own feet. Little eyeballs blinked at him from the cobblestones. Corpses stirred in the shadows. When Madame Manec would help him home, he’d crawl into the darkest corner of his bed and belt pillows around his ears. All his energy would go into ignoring the pounding of his own pulse. His heart beats icily in a faraway cage. Headache coming, he thinks Terrible terrible terrible headache. Twenty heartbeats. Thirty-five minutes. He twists the latch, opens the gate. Steps outside.” (Doerr, 2014, p 417-418)
This is fictional, but the intensity of feelings described is powerful and likely resonates with individuals who experiences anxiety or panic.
Doerr, A. (2014). All the light we cannot see: A novel. New York: Scribner.
