The Panic Attack I Never Saw Coming

My story about panic attacks, productivity guilt, and finding my rhythm as a medical student with big dreams.

Photo by Marvelous Raphael on Unsplash

Maybe this is too much to share, and maybe you're thinking I’m oversharing with the “public.” But here’s the thing—if telling my story is healing me and possibly helping someone else through their struggle, then I’ll keep sharing because silence can sometimes feel heavier than shame, and stories, when told honestly, have the power to lift others.

I’m a medical student. That means I read large textbooks, sit for nerve-wracking exams, and try to keep pace with a fast, jampacked curriculum that sometimes feels like a race with no finish line. Yet, I also live a life that many would consider unconventional—too full, too expressive, too distracted, too “unfocused” and maybe they’re right but even if it looks like I’m doing too much, I’ve decided I won’t apologise for the way I choose to live my life.

The truth? I’ve struggled with consistency. I’ve struggled with productivity. I’ve struggled with doing the right things at the right time. Sometimes I’m doing the right things at the wrong time. Other times, I’m doing the completely wrong things altogether. Let’s not lie—it can be easier to work on creative projects than open a heavy anatomy textbook. I remember when I was still trying to find my feet, I would spend hours on YouTube watching funny videos or interesting interviews with all my precious time… and show up to nothing. Now, people think I’m more efficient, and I am, but even now, more can be done.

I didn’t even feel like writing this piece today, but I know tomorrow will be too busy, and if I don't show up now, I’ll miss the moment. So here I am.

For the longest time, I struggled with owning my study style. I would hop from one method to another based on what I saw seniors or classmates say worked for them. If someone said “stay up till 2 a.m.” or “use this or that material,” I’d feel pressured to shift my rhythm. I lived in that cycle for years, reforming and reshaping my strategy to fit a mould that was never mine in the first place. However, as I slowly began working on myself with the help of honest reflections, I started to accept what works for me and, even more importantly, who I am.

It’s funny how you think your life is complicated until you hear someone else’s story and realise there are levels to this thing called life. My life feels like a layered joke sometimes—beautiful and bittersweet, full of contradictions. I often describe myself as emotionally porous, soaking in everything: words, expectations, praise, criticism, silence, pressure. Everything! Still, my biggest challenge has been not having boundaries—no filter, no grid to decide what should come in and what should stay out. For a long time, I lived off people’s perceptions of me. I shaped myself based on what I thought people wanted from me. The crazy part? Many people admire me from afar, and they would never believe this.

One thing life has taught me is not to envy what I don’t fully understand. People are fighting silent battles you’ll never see, even as they shine.

Owning my study style felt like a miracle, but did it come late? I didn’t think so until I had a panic attack two days before one of my most recent exams. Then everything shifted.

That evening, I knew something was off. I sat with my notes, and suddenly, the words were blurred. I blinked, squinted, tried to read again but it was like my brain had checked out. Still, I stayed there, staring at the page as though my mind would somehow resuscitate. After hours of zoning out and doing nothing, I started to spiral. I felt like I was choking inside my skin. It was like I needed to jump out of my own body just to breathe.

That was the first time I’d ever felt something like that, and in that moment, I knew—I was having a panic attack.

By some miracle of grace and strength, I reached out to a few close friends and thank God for them! Their words grounded me. Their presence—even through phone calls—anchored me. I don’t ever want to go through that again. It was terrifying!

Nonetheless, here’s what I learnt: panic doesn’t leave just because you wish it away. It leaves when you act differently. Panic leaves when you build confidence through real preparation—not crash reading, not comparison, but consistent effort rooted in knowing what works for you. That kind of preparation isn’t a product of motivation; it’s born out of intention.

I wish I could tell you that I’ve figured it all out since then. I haven’t yet, but I’ve made peace with the fact that growth isn’t a straight line. Days later, I still struggle to balance creating and studying, but I’m learning to show up with honesty, with strategy, and with compassion toward myself.

If you’ve ever had a panic attack like I did, please don’t beat yourself up. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. Stand up, dust yourself off, take a breath, keep moving, and most importantly, don’t waste the experience. Learn from it. Share what you can. Help others rise.

There’s healing in vulnerability. There’s growth in reflection, and there’s power in telling the truth.

“Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.” — Brené Brown