Panic Room
"Heart break is heart opening."
I heard this once. I did not believe it for a long time until I took inventory of all the times my heart had been broken. (Note: this phrase checks out).
A week ago, I was on the subway to a SoulCycle class. It was a normal Monday. I had the day off, so I didn't do a whole lot. I went to a dance lesson, I did some laundry, I ate lunch, the usual. On this subway ride, we stop at a station, and a man gets on the train who looks identical, and I mean identical, to my ex-boyfriend. Shortly after that stop, we got stuck underground. Now, if you live in New York City, you are reading this and thinking, "cool, big deal." I get it. It's a normal thing. But, shockingly enough, it's only happened to me twice in the 8 months I've lived here. So, the odds hadn't been great. I was sitting next to this woman, and I feel it. A specific panic sets in, one I am acquainted with, but hadn't felt in some time.
I do all the things. I try reading. I journaled on my phone. I tried paying close attention to the music in my AirPods. Nothing was working. I kept putting off taking my medicine because, for whatever reason, I always want to "prove it" to myself that I can do this thing on my own. Note: if you have a diagnosed psychiatric condition, such as panic disorder or PTSD, and you are medicated for it, please utilize your medication and follow your care plan as instructed by your doctors.
Finally, I couldn't do it anymore. My heart rate, according to my Apple Watch, was hovering around 146 BPM. For context, my resting heart rate is around 40-48 BPM (my roommate likes to tell me this means I'm a horse). Anyway, it's unbearable. I take my medicine knowing I'm going to have to ride out this feeling for, bare minimum, a couple more minutes until it settles in. I turn to the woman next to me, and I lightly tap her on her shoulder. She removes her headphones, and as calmly as I can, I explain to her that I'm in the middle of a panic attack. She proceeded to introduce herself. Her name was Donna. Donna has lived in New York -- Queens specifically -- for 13 years. She then immediately took deep breaths with me, and guided me through the "5, 4, 3, 2, 1" technique, which is a commonly use grounding technique for those who experience anxiety or panic. I had no idea who this woman was, but when I looked in front of me and to my left and to my right, Donna was the obvious choice. She was the safe choice. And in those moments, when you feel like your heart is racing so fast that you actually just might die, safety is all you're on the hunt for.
Finally, the train began to move. At the next stop, which was not where I intended to get off, I thanked Donna profusely, and scurried off the train. I dodged through people in Union Square Park with tears running down my face, probably looking like a crazy person. Or, as a friend of mine told me in the days following, maybe I just looked like someone who was having a bad day and really struggling. This was overwhelmingly comforting to hear.
Now, let's not forget what started this entire story. I spotted a man who resembled what I'd go ahead and now refer to as danger. This man I saw reminded me of a man who broke my heart in the deepest way possible. I've been taking the subway for months. I've been stuck underground before. And I have been just fine prior in those moments. So, that leads me to the trigger itself.
I think it's important to have a conscious awareness of your triggers. Upon knowing these triggers you can then ask the normal question, which is, "what the fuck do I do now?" Just kidding... sort of. I knew my trigger was this man who resembled my ex-boyfriend. I knew I'd had a nightmare pertaining to my ex-boyfriend the night prior that I brushed off as nothing. I knew all of these things were the perfect recipe for this particular panic attack. Bearing this information in mind, I began to go a little deeper. I started asking my friends if they had subway anxiety (note: not deeper). And, because they're all lovely and wonderful people, each one explained to me that they didn't believe this was subway anxiety for me. They believed this was a trigger, and they are all accurate.
Let's be clear here. My ex and I had what will heretofore be known as the longest and messiest breakup that has, in turn, taken me months to process. When I was talking to a friend about this, she told me something that put things into perspective. I could easily be over my ex as a human being, but I may not be over the pain he caused. That right there... that was priceless information. I could be over him, but not over the hurt. This made perfect sense to me. My point here is I think you can know someone isn't for you, be completely content with this thought, and still allow yourself to process the pain they caused. If you ask me, I think getting over the person is the easy part; getting over the pain is a different story.
My panic room has been a lot of different places, and my triggers have been an assortment. My panic room has been on the New York City subway, on a mic teaching a fitness class, in a college lecture hall, in my shower, in my bedroom, on the sidewalk, in an Uber, in Times Square, in a bar, in a hospital, in my childhood home. I've had many panic rooms. Each panic room has served as a brilliant reminder of the beauty that lies within anxiety or panic. That reminder is this:
Anxiety, fear, or panic -- whichever you resonate with -- is an invitation to go deeper.
It is always a request to go on a journey to discover just exactly what it is anxiety is trying to tell you. Because there is always a message, and I have found that the message within your anxious heart and thoughts is typically a message worth finding. If it's easier to think of yourself as Inspector f*ckin' Gadget here, by all means.
Your heart break... it will manifest in different ways and in different seasons of your life. It will force you to open your heart, but only if you let it. Heart break is heart opening. Read that again for good measure. Heart break can be what saves you. Heart break can be the catalyst for most wonderful things. Heart break can, I believe, lead us to a joy we perhaps have never known. I am hopeful for this. And I know this to be true. We can only let in should we choose to let go.
Because to have an understanding of and be able to feel an emotion, we must have an intimate understanding of its opposite.
I heard this once. I did not believe it for a long time until I took inventory of all the times my heart had been broken. (Note: this phrase checks out).
A week ago, I was on the subway to a SoulCycle class. It was a normal Monday. I had the day off, so I didn't do a whole lot. I went to a dance lesson, I did some laundry, I ate lunch, the usual. On this subway ride, we stop at a station, and a man gets on the train who looks identical, and I mean identical, to my ex-boyfriend. Shortly after that stop, we got stuck underground. Now, if you live in New York City, you are reading this and thinking, "cool, big deal." I get it. It's a normal thing. But, shockingly enough, it's only happened to me twice in the 8 months I've lived here. So, the odds hadn't been great. I was sitting next to this woman, and I feel it. A specific panic sets in, one I am acquainted with, but hadn't felt in some time.
I do all the things. I try reading. I journaled on my phone. I tried paying close attention to the music in my AirPods. Nothing was working. I kept putting off taking my medicine because, for whatever reason, I always want to "prove it" to myself that I can do this thing on my own. Note: if you have a diagnosed psychiatric condition, such as panic disorder or PTSD, and you are medicated for it, please utilize your medication and follow your care plan as instructed by your doctors.
Finally, I couldn't do it anymore. My heart rate, according to my Apple Watch, was hovering around 146 BPM. For context, my resting heart rate is around 40-48 BPM (my roommate likes to tell me this means I'm a horse). Anyway, it's unbearable. I take my medicine knowing I'm going to have to ride out this feeling for, bare minimum, a couple more minutes until it settles in. I turn to the woman next to me, and I lightly tap her on her shoulder. She removes her headphones, and as calmly as I can, I explain to her that I'm in the middle of a panic attack. She proceeded to introduce herself. Her name was Donna. Donna has lived in New York -- Queens specifically -- for 13 years. She then immediately took deep breaths with me, and guided me through the "5, 4, 3, 2, 1" technique, which is a commonly use grounding technique for those who experience anxiety or panic. I had no idea who this woman was, but when I looked in front of me and to my left and to my right, Donna was the obvious choice. She was the safe choice. And in those moments, when you feel like your heart is racing so fast that you actually just might die, safety is all you're on the hunt for.
Finally, the train began to move. At the next stop, which was not where I intended to get off, I thanked Donna profusely, and scurried off the train. I dodged through people in Union Square Park with tears running down my face, probably looking like a crazy person. Or, as a friend of mine told me in the days following, maybe I just looked like someone who was having a bad day and really struggling. This was overwhelmingly comforting to hear.
Now, let's not forget what started this entire story. I spotted a man who resembled what I'd go ahead and now refer to as danger. This man I saw reminded me of a man who broke my heart in the deepest way possible. I've been taking the subway for months. I've been stuck underground before. And I have been just fine prior in those moments. So, that leads me to the trigger itself.
I think it's important to have a conscious awareness of your triggers. Upon knowing these triggers you can then ask the normal question, which is, "what the fuck do I do now?" Just kidding... sort of. I knew my trigger was this man who resembled my ex-boyfriend. I knew I'd had a nightmare pertaining to my ex-boyfriend the night prior that I brushed off as nothing. I knew all of these things were the perfect recipe for this particular panic attack. Bearing this information in mind, I began to go a little deeper. I started asking my friends if they had subway anxiety (note: not deeper). And, because they're all lovely and wonderful people, each one explained to me that they didn't believe this was subway anxiety for me. They believed this was a trigger, and they are all accurate.
Let's be clear here. My ex and I had what will heretofore be known as the longest and messiest breakup that has, in turn, taken me months to process. When I was talking to a friend about this, she told me something that put things into perspective. I could easily be over my ex as a human being, but I may not be over the pain he caused. That right there... that was priceless information. I could be over him, but not over the hurt. This made perfect sense to me. My point here is I think you can know someone isn't for you, be completely content with this thought, and still allow yourself to process the pain they caused. If you ask me, I think getting over the person is the easy part; getting over the pain is a different story.
My panic room has been a lot of different places, and my triggers have been an assortment. My panic room has been on the New York City subway, on a mic teaching a fitness class, in a college lecture hall, in my shower, in my bedroom, on the sidewalk, in an Uber, in Times Square, in a bar, in a hospital, in my childhood home. I've had many panic rooms. Each panic room has served as a brilliant reminder of the beauty that lies within anxiety or panic. That reminder is this:
Anxiety, fear, or panic -- whichever you resonate with -- is an invitation to go deeper.
It is always a request to go on a journey to discover just exactly what it is anxiety is trying to tell you. Because there is always a message, and I have found that the message within your anxious heart and thoughts is typically a message worth finding. If it's easier to think of yourself as Inspector f*ckin' Gadget here, by all means.
Your heart break... it will manifest in different ways and in different seasons of your life. It will force you to open your heart, but only if you let it. Heart break is heart opening. Read that again for good measure. Heart break can be what saves you. Heart break can be the catalyst for most wonderful things. Heart break can, I believe, lead us to a joy we perhaps have never known. I am hopeful for this. And I know this to be true. We can only let in should we choose to let go.
Because to have an understanding of and be able to feel an emotion, we must have an intimate understanding of its opposite.
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