This is story from our book Mindfulness for Transformation. The stories are written by members of our community.

By - Robyn Zagoren

A friend and I were laughing about a shared experience as the waiter placed my lunch before me, a delicious Caesar salad with the works. However, a few bites in, I noticed a disturbing feeling.

My fingers started tingling. The sensation crept up my hands. It moved into my feet, then my legs. Suddenly, my breathing quickened. The muscles in my hands and legs started to cramp. My vision became blurry, my heart began to race and my face felt numb. I was shaking uncontrollably, and my fight-or-flight response set in. Should I get up and run? And if so, where to? I didn’t understand what was happening to me. The thought that I would die in a health food restaurant petrified me–the irony! As the terror took over, I couldn’t help but laugh as I tried to maintain my sense of humour amidst the angst. Then these physical sensations intensified into a feeling of dread. Everything went black.

It turns out that I was having the first of many panic attacks. The panic would roll over me for no apparent reason, anytime and anywhere. The fear was palpable. I didn’t share what was going on with my friends; I was ashamed, thinking that they wouldn’t want to hang out with someone who was losing it. I became well-versed at making excuses to avoid situations that might trigger an attack, so I missed out on opportunities. My life started getting smaller. I was 19 years old: the prospect of living my life this way was terrifying and isolating.

My doctors prescribed several different medications to bring me back to a ‘normal’ state and reduce the number of anxiety attacks I was having per day–sometimes as many as six. They took tests to see if an underlying medical condition was causing the attacks.They had no idea what was wrong with me. One doctor told me I had type 2 diabetes, while another said I was severely allergic to certain foods and handed me an epinephrine pen. Another suggested that my childhood trauma–growing up watching my parents’ loveless marriage–was the root cause, and I should join a therapy group. After losing weight (from changing my diet to avoid allergens), they decided I had an eating disorder. The fear of anxiety was making me clinically sick. How did I go from being a healthy college student and athlete to suffering from panic attacks and other medical conditions in a few weeks? It turns out that trauma and stress can play havoc with your health.A few months into my battle with anxiety (it felt like a war everyday), one of my professors asked me to help teach elementary school-age students how to handle stress. A study at Harvard University was evaluating progressive relaxation meditations, using mindfulness. I jumped at the chance; I loved teaching, and I wondered if it might help me, too.

The students would lie on a mat, listening to a recording taking them through contracting and relaxing different muscles in sequence from their feet to their heads. The meditation left them in a relaxed state. Their minds began to recognise when their bodies grew tense, so they could head off the stress response: the fight-or-flight feeling. It was magical. The students loved it. That night I lay in my dorm room and I practised the meditation. Best.Sleep.Ever.

That was my introduction to mindfulness meditation. I started to realise that fear was not infinite, but a guest in my life. How I treated that guest was up to me. I immersed myself in the world of mindfulness.

Each day I practised breathing meditations and body scans. No longer did I wrestle with the anxiety; instead, I opened up to the sensations with full acceptance, compassion and kindness. It wasn’t easy. Some days the panic would set in, and it would take everything I had to sit still with those uncomfortable feelings; embrace, accept and learn from them. Eventually, I was able to recognise that the feelings of anxiety didn’t last. I began to understand what was happening, knowing that I wouldn’t die, no matter how much the panic took over. No longer did I judge myself for being weak, crazy, or any of the other negative labels that would trigger an attack. The negative mind chatter dissipated.

Being curious and accepting were two valuable attitudes I cultivated. I welcomed what I was feeling, why I was feeling this way,and where these feelings had come from. As hard as it was to sit with those difficult thoughts, feelings and sensations, it was also empowering to open up to them and allow them to visit, knowing they wouldn’t stay for long.

The difficulties were hard to face, but I felt the most growth and change when I was able to sit with them. I realised that the negative thoughts I was dealing with were learned responses, created through trauma in my childhood and culminating as anxiety attacks. In my family, you never knew what the climate at home would be: screaming, fighting, even a few loving moments or an unnatural silence. For years, my parents wouldn’t talk directly to each other; they used me as a conduit for their communication. The emotional eggshells lined the floors, creating a foundation for anxiety.

The more I practised meditation, the more accepting I became.Through mindfulness, I could separate other people’s issues (mostly my parents) from mine, and realise that they were ‘not my circus, not my monkeys’. The stress melted away, taking with it the panic attacks. Through mindfulness, I could sit back and view my life as if it was a movie. I was able to send compassion to myself as a child and to my parents.

From then on, I related to my parents differently, understood them and forgave them. They did love me and, although it was far from perfect, they had tried their best. My parents no longer had power over me, using me like a puppet to bolster their needs. The strings released, one by one.

As I developed my practice, there were days when the meditations were fluid and days when my mind wandered. The practice was the most important part: I let go of the immediate outcomes and just allowed my experience to be whatever was happening in that moment. I created a space at home where I could go to sit quietly.I found a beautiful tree I could sit under when I wanted to connect with nature as I took deep breaths and let go. I slowed down, stepping out of my manic auto pilot life with all the stressors and the expectations that others put on me. I discovered myself.

Working with my physicians, I eventually weaned myself off all medications. I didn’t have any of the conditions they had diagnosed. The panic attacks continued to fade over time, and they no longer feel threatening.

Befriending my panic attacks through mindfulness saved me from a life of misdiagnoses and unnecessary medications, and anxiety and I are friends now. I value my panic attacks as a reminder that I need to slow down, take care of myself, and reconnect. I am grateful for the lessons I have learnt through mindful meditation.I have discovered how to move past the fear and embrace life. I am thankful for the gift of acceptance, knowing that I have there silence to keep moving forward and that my breath is always with me when I need it.

If you ever feel anxious, you may find it helpful to consider the first thing you reach for or try to do to escape it. Instead, try to look at your anxiety differently. Bring in a sense of non-judgement: everyone struggles in different ways, so be patient and kind to yourself. It’s not a straight road, but a wonderful journey you are on.

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