Panic at the Disco

My First Panic Attack: What It Taught Me About Trauma and Healing 

I’d never had a panic attack before. I assumed there’d be warning signs—some slow build-up, a whisper before the scream. But there weren’t. It arrived unannounced, like a wave crashing through still water. 

The Physical Experience of Panic 

Recognizing Panic Attack Symptoms and Using Somatic Tools 

I was working on my blog when all of the sudden my chest felt tight and heavy, my heart was pounding. 

I checked my pulse, 114 beats per minute. Immediately I put my hand over my heart and utilized my deep breathing tools. 4 seconds in… pause… 7 seconds out…  

I noticed my breath was shaky and trembling. After performing a body scan, I felt tightness in my shoulders and neck. My body seemed to be bracing itself for a potential threat. What was that threat? I cannot say. 

Tapping into all of my senses, it was time to turn to audio. I had calming nature sounds playing while I continued my deep breathing. Heart rate is still elevated at 114 per minute. For context, my baseline at rest heart rate is in the 50’s. 

Grounding Techniques That Helped 

Breathwork, Meditation, and the 5-4-3-2-1 Method

Still nothing was helping. Now I’m consciously panicking too. I went into a dark room and I opened my Insight Timer app in search of a short breathing meditation to ground myself. Breath still shaking, heart still racing. Nada. 

I tried grounding myself with the 5-4-3-2-1 technique. 

• 5 things you can see
• 4 things you can feel 
• 3 things you can hear 
• 2 things you can smell 
• 1 thing you can taste  

I reached out to my friends about my symptoms and many responded back showing their support. One friend in particular, the one who officiated our wedding, called me. Hearing her calm voice helped me regulate as she just coached me through my breathing. Her presence, despite little words exchanged, helped my nervous system calm down. 

Therapy Insights: Blogging as a Trauma Diary

How Writing Can Trigger Emotional Flashbacks

Tilly, my Psy D therapist, explained that my blog acts as a trauma diary—a space where past wounds resurface through storytelling. It’s not just writing; it’s emotional excavation. And like any deep dive, it requires boundaries. Coupled with the divorce and the constant weight of everything else in my world, it is likely to send my body into panic causing these attacks. 

She called it a trauma diary and I have to treat it as such. This means only dedicating a certain amount of time to it daily. Step away after 5-10 minutes and do something else. 

Motherhood and Emotional Regulation 

Motherhood doesn’t pause 

I am fortunate that my mother continues to care for Finn two days of the week so I can handle everything and catch up on everything else. So today, I was able to just focus on taking care of myself. I continue to hold space for my emotions while protecting his innocence. I’m learning how to do both and it is getting easier with each day. 

Cultural & emotional layers 

Vietnamese Family Dynamics and Emotional Silence 

In many Vietnamese families, emotional expression is often met with discomfort or dismissal. Strength is quiet, if not silent—and you carry it alone. Even though my parents and I have made a lot of progress in the way I express how I feel, I do not go to them for a deep dive of my emotions. Their solution is “keep moving, be strong for your son, don’t cry”. 

Growing up with this kind of dynamic, I’ve learned to not expect emotional support from my parents. Strength in my lineage is quiet if not silent, and you generally carry it alone. 

What I know vs What I’m learning 

Affirmations for Healing and Nervous System Regulation 

What I know: healing and grief are not linear  

What I’m learning: when you think you’ve hit bottom, there’s still depth to explore  

What I know: my nervous system deserves compassion  

What I’m learning: regulation must be daily, not occasional  

What I know: I can be both broken and brave  

What I’m learning: to accept myself exactly where I am

If today felt like too much, you’re not alone. If your body is screaming while your mind tries to stay composed — I see you. You’re surviving. And that’s enough. You’re enough.