I Took a Sick Day Because I Didn’t Want to Have a Panic Attack at Work

Tricking my brain into believing in an alternate reality did me no favors

The first time it happened, the statistics professor was going about some theorem or the other.

It wasn’t that I didn’t get it, it was just that it seemed like her voice was coming from a great distance away. Everything around me became a blur because all I could think about was this tightness in my chest. I felt like screaming because I couldn’t breathe.

The episode lasted a full 10 minutes.

It was the scariest experience in my life — this inability to breathe — and also the most humiliating. Desperately struggling to drag in precious breaths while the whole class was watching.

Some with genuine concern, some with skepticism. But none thought of grabbing a brown bag for me. As I said, nobody was familiar with these sorts of things.

You see, in those days, and especially in my culture, mental health was a taboo subject.

You either have a serious mental illness or not and everything in between was conveniently shoved under the rug. Almost as if it would go away if you just pretended the problem wasn’t there.

After the third panic attack, I decided to take a month-long break from classes and try to get my feelings sorted out.

Therapy wasn’t easily accessible then and moreover, my family wouldn’t even think of it. Come to think of it, even though they were fine with my decision to take a break from college, they left me to deal with my demons.

Maybe they didn’t know what else to do because mental health was not discussed. It just was not mainstream as it is today and there were zero coping strategies except perhaps for ‘rest.’

I vividly recall a classmate telling me that I was too hard on myself as a student. Hence, the ‘hysterics’ — or at least that is what they alluded to.

If only they knew.

It wasn’t about academics but because of a boy. Or rather, on account of unrequited love.

I can almost sense the invisible eye rolls at my statement. In case you didn’t know, it can be similar to addiction. Addiction to something you absolutely crave and believe you can’t live without. But I couldn’t talk about it and after a point, all these chaotic feelings with no outlet for expression got the better of me.

Though it wasn’t the first time, it certainly wasn’t the last time I would get lost in a fantasy world created by yours truly. And the funny thing is I now know exactly why I get caught up in the dopamine rush despite knowing that it is not good for me in the long run.

You see, it was my way of escaping reality.

The first time it happened, I choose someone completely unattainable to be the object of my affection.

And I have repeated that pattern a few times since. I was not really looking for someone special to engage in a relationship with per se but something to distract me from whatever upheaval was going on in my life.

Back in college, it was the endless bickering between my parents. It was not just the fact that their arguments were becoming so toxic and frequent but that both would complain about each other to me, their golden child. Life became utterly miserable and since neither drugs, alcohol nor even a counselor was readily available to help alleviate the overwhelm, I resorted to the only thing I had on hand. Took myself off to a fantasy land that gave me a high.

But what I wasn’t expecting was that it would feel so real. It was my trying to break out of the fantasy and back to reality that resulted in those panic attacks.

It happened again a few years ago. Even though at some level I knew what was happening again, I refused to let common sense keep me away from the heady cocktail of chemicals that were once again taking me over and giving me that escape I badly needed.

At that time, I was a caregiver to a loved one in addition to my other responsibilities. I was in and out of hospitals on a constant basis, taking my family member for one test after another, one specialist after another till the names of all the doctors I had on my contact list got blurred.

True to form, I picked someone unattainable to be the object of my fascination because I inherently knew I wasn’t exactly looking for a relationship. I was looking for an escape from the constant stress and worry.

But again, my feelings for this person felt so real that at the time I decided to ‘end it,’ I was experiencing panic attacks again.

The good thing was I had left my home country and was in the US where mental health resources are way more accessible. Even then, most workplaces are not mental health friendly if you know what I mean, and having a full-blown panic attack in the midst of a meeting is not going to do your reputation any favors.

So, I decided to give myself a break, called in sick, and took off to New Hampshire, my happy place, with the dual intention of hiking, my favorite sport, as well as sorting out my feelings.

Have you ever climbed Mt. Major? The view of Lake Winnipesaukee is out of this world. I recall breathing in the bracing mountain air, the muscles in my legs quivering from the intense workout of hiking the Blue Trail, feeling the solidity of the rock beneath my feet and I knew I had made the right decision to come here.

There is something about that place that gives one a clarity of vision unlike any. The more time you spend quietly contemplating the vastness of the blue sky, and the timeless beauty of the mountains and less time fighting the feelings inside of you, the more self-aware and self-attuned to your deepest self you become.

It is quite beautiful and liberating, indeed.

The hike down was easier maybe because I felt much lighter after my meditation up top. Or perhaps it had something to do with the little stack of stones I had made as a memorial to a beautiful romantic fantasy that would never bear fruition. I had finally managed to make peace with it if not anything else.