Panic

⚠️ Trigger Warning - and a Note of Courage ⚠️ Nobody should ever feel ashamed for having panic attacks. I did. For too long. I thought I was weak. I was wrong. If you're experiencing panic, please don’t wait. Say the words: "I need help." There is help. There is medicine that works. I’m living proof. Not broken - just human. And worth saving. Always. AFTER CANCER CAME PANIC. I was back. Back at work. Back in life. I had survived cancer. A part of my lungs was gone, the rest scarred - but still, I breathed. I was laughing again, traveling, living. And then, one night in October 2008 - I woke up choking on nothing at all. No sound. No air. Just a heartbeat like thunder in my throat. I called emergency. I thought it was a heart attack. That I would die, right there in bed. But the man on the line stayed calm. He helped me breathe. Somehow, I made it through the night. The next day, the fear was still there. Silent. Waiting. And then it struck again. Panic. A name I didn't know yet, but I could feel it in every nerve. The nights became unbearable. I started sleeping in my clothes - ready to run. Kept the car keys by the door. I didn’t trust my body anymore. Every flutter, every twinge, every breath felt like betrayal. Sometimes I would drive to the hospital. Park outside. Sit in my car for hours, crying. I couldn’t go in. I didn’t know what to say. "I’m dying." But I wasn’t. Not in a way they could measure. I tried to work. I still loved my job. But the attacks came during meetings, on the road, in the bathroom at work while I tried to hide. I stopped sleeping. I lived in a state of readiness - waiting for death to arrive. I didn’t want medication. I was terrified of losing control. And so I spiraled. Eventually, a doctor gave me something to calm me down. It worked. Too well. I felt... nothing. And that scared me even more. They suggested a clinic. I was too tired to fight. I drove myself there - how, I still don’t know. I ended up in a locked psychiatric ward. The door closed behind me with a sound I still remember. They said I would be safe there. But I felt trapped. The next morning they told me to go to breakfast, then knitting therapy. That’s when I snapped awake - "I don’t belong here," I thought. "I’m not crazy." But I also knew: I was not okay. I told them I needed to go home for clothes. They let me out for one hour. I never came back. I drove straight to the Aeskulap Clinic in Brunnen. Collapsed at the front desk. I begged the staff not to send me back. They let me stay. Gave me a room with lake view. That view saved me. In Brunnen, I learned the name: Panic Disorder. I learned it’s not weakness. It’s not imaginary. It’s not just "stress." It’s your body hijacked by fear, even when your life is quiet. It’s trying to live while your brain screams "You are dying." I was ashamed. Because society still whispers when it comes to mental health. And I was a woman in a leadership role. How could I be "mentally ill"? Would my employer still respect me? But they did. They waited. They welcomed me back. And that gave me strength. I stayed in the clinic for four weeks. I unpacked my trauma. Faced the roots I had buried. Spoke the names I had swallowed. It broke me - and then it started to build something new. When I left, I wasn’t cured. But I was no longer running. I began to walk again. I also learned something I had feared for far too long: how to accept help in the form of medication. Panic had taken over my body and mind - but it didn’t have to. I began taking Escitalopram (brand name Cipralex), an SSRI I once saw as an enemy. It wasn’t. For one year, it was my quiet companion - helping my body find rest and my mind breathe again. And then, slowly and safely, I was able to stop. The panic never came back. But I kept something else: my voice. Since that time, I’ve spoken regularly with the same psychologist. Still today. Not because I’m weak - but because I refuse to carry this weight alone. These conversations free my thoughts, help me face the next wave - whether it’s cancer or life. I’m not ashamed to say it. I’m proud. This song "Panic" is that walk. It is not polished. It is not poetic. It is panic, set to sound. If you’ve ever felt like you were dying in silence - If your lungs have ever betrayed you, if your own body has ever become a battlefield - this song is for you. We don’t talk enough about mental pain. We don’t show enough how it looks behind the scenes. So here I am. No filter. No mask. Still walking. Still healing. Still here. But peace was brief. 2010. A routine scan - a CT. They found something. A new shadow in my lung. A cold sentence buried in a report. "A suspicious mass in the lower lobe." I read it myself. Black letters. White paper. And everything inside me screamed "Not again." Tears blurred the words, but not the meaning. The next battle against cancer was already waiting. 🌱💬🌱💬🌱💬 October 2008 I woke up drowning Not in water In air that wouldn’t listen My heart rioted My lungs screamed silence I dialed emergency And told death Not now. Daylight came I smiled like a machine Still had my dream job Still had my daughter Still had the lie But night knew better Suffocating in a room full of oxygen Choking on fear with no face Driving to the ER again Just to be told You’re fine. But I wasn’t How do you explain Dying in fragments Heartbeat by heartbeat But never flatline This was not just fear This was war inside my skin Every breath A battlefield No blood, no wound But panic kills Without permission I wore clothes in bed Keys in reach Because the monster Came without warning Came with flashing thoughts I’m dying. I’m dying. Work toilet. Car seat Hospital lobby My panic had no schedule I didn’t want meds Afraid of stillness Afraid of sleep I wept before hospitals Like churches Pleading for peace One night A sedative finally hit And it felt like mercy They sent me to a psych ward Locked wing Smelled like disinfectant and past lives I sat on a bed Holding my book like a shield My partner didn’t even know where I was I asked him for my pillow That’s how you carry dignity in madness The next day Knitting therapy I woke up in horror I didn’t belong there But I couldn’t leave So I lied Told them I needed clothes They let me go I never came back Instead, I drove to Brunnen Barely made it Collapsed at reception My body gave in But my soul That old fighter Still screamed Help me, just not like that Panic took my breath But it didn’t take my voice In a clinic by the lake I found language again Named the monster Faced the mirror I didn’t run Not this time Shame That’s the shadow panic wears But I started to strip it away Day by day Fear by fear Four weeks One broken woman One window to the lake And the sound of life whispering You’re not done. Work waited My people waited I returned Panic didn’t win Not because I was brave But because I stayed Because I listened Because I finally said it I need help They called it panic But it was lightning in my chest And just when I caught my breath The storm turned And cancer struck again 2010. Round two ✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️ Lyrics and text © 2025 Thousand Tomorrows. All rights reserved. Written from the soul. Echoed through sound. ✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️