The Impact of Stress

I Thought I Was Dying…

It was my 32nd birthday.

I was sitting on the couch, glass of red wine in hand, watching Grey’s Anatomy. I felt relaxed. Calm. Normal. Then suddenly, a strange sensation washed over me. It felt as though my body was shutting down. my vision started to tunnel.

I didn’t know what was happening — I just knew something was very wrong.

I was terrified.

My firstborn daughter was under a year old. I turned to my husband and said, “Something is wrong. I can’t breathe. You need to call an ambulance.”

The wait felt endless.

As my heart raced out of control, I felt pins and needles surge through my arms. My legs went numb. I genuinely believed I was dying. I even visualised myself being wheeled down the hallway under a sheet — dead.

Two paramedics arrived. I was sitting on the couch, hyperventilating, struggling to catch my breath. One of them asked if I’d been under stress.

I remember thinking, Why on earth are you asking me about stress? I’m dying.

But yes — there had been a lot going on.

At work, I’d faced significant challenges after returning from maternity leave. I was told there was no provision for part-timers, and the expectation was that I return full-time with a new baby. I had to fight my case and seek union advice. Eventually, my regular HR duties were taken away and I was left doing menial processing work.

On top of that, I was preparing for surgery and constantly worrying: How am I going to look after my baby? How will I manage time off work?

My husband and I were also navigating personal challenges.

The paramedic handed me a brown paper bag and told me to breathe into it. It felt absurd. Why would breathing into a bag help when my body felt like it was failing?

They explained I was hyperventilating and needed help regulating my breathing.

According to them, I wasn’t dying.

I was having a panic attack.

I’d never heard of one before.

The sensations in my head felt like electric currents firing through my brain. I was convinced they were wrong — that I had a brain tumour or something catastrophic going on. But slowly, as I breathed into that brown paper bag, my heart rate began to settle. It stopped feeling like it was going to explode out of my chest.

They told me I didn’t need to go to the hospital. Panic attacks, they said, were common. I needed to manage my stress better and follow up with my GP.

I was stunned.

They left, but I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t lie down. I sat upright all night because every time I drifted off, that terrifying sensation returned.

The next morning, I rang my boss to say I couldn’t come in — I’d had a medical episode and an ambulance the night before. I booked an urgent GP appointment, still convinced I had a brain tumour.

My GP agreed my symptoms were consistent with a panic attack but referred me to a neurologist for peace of mind, especially as I was days away from surgery.

I underwent a series of neurological tests — balance, coordination, reflexes. I passed everything with flying colours.

What Stress Does to Us

The neurologist sat me down and explained stress in a way I’d never heard before.

He said stress builds like blocks — one block on top of another. Eventually, the stack becomes too high, and it collapses.

Physically, prolonged stress keeps the nervous system in survival mode. Over time this can show up as fatigue, headaches, muscle tension, digestive issues, hormonal imbalance, poor sleep, lowered immunity, and chronic inflammation. The body was never designed to live in constant alert.

Mentally, unmanaged stress clouds our thinking. It can lead to anxiety, overthinking, brain fog, irritability, low motivation, and difficulty making decisions. When stress becomes the norm, we start reacting rather than responding.

Emotionally, stress suppresses feeling that need to be felt. This often results in emotional overwhelm, numbness, mood swings, or feeling disconnected from ourselves and others.

Spiritually, stress creates separation. We lose touch with our inner guidance, intuitition, and sense of purpose. Instead of feeling aligned and supported, life can start to feel heavy, rushed, or out of sync. We may feel stuck, lost, or disconnected from what truly matters.

When stress is not managed, the body eventually speaks through symptoms and asks us to slow down, listen, and realign.

That’s what my body had done.

It couldn’t carry the weight anymore.

From that moment, I began to understand the link between stress, anxiety, and panic.

The Lingering Effects

Even after that first panic attack, the symptoms lingered. There were times I walked around the house and couldn’t feel my legs. I could see them, I was walking, but there was no sensation, they felt odly numb, it felt like I was taking big elephant steps, and my feet were planting heavily into the floor, it was the weirdest and scariest feeling. Often at work, sitting at my desk pins and needles would surge through my arms, my heart would start beating rapidly and those electric shock–like sensations continued to dart through my head.

It seemed like whenever my body started to relax, or I zoned out, the panic symptoms would sneak up on me.

Sometimes the panic symptoms would hit while I was driving. I’d take a deep breath, open the window, and let fresh air in and take a sip of water (I always carried water with me).

My GP placed me on a mental health plan, and they suggested I take antidepressants. I felt determined not to take them, though. I’d always been drawn to natural and alternative therapies. I began seeing a psychologist. The sessions were kind of helpful — mostly me talking, they listened — and over time, I learned how to manage the symptoms.

The turning point came when I realised I needed to take my power back.

I couldn’t let the panic continue to control me.

How I gained control of my panic

I created my own pattern interrupters. When I felt a panic attack coming on, I’d take a slow, deep breath in through my nose, exhaling out my mouth, and immediately stand up and get a glass of water. Move. Do something.

For me, I think it helped to flip a switch in my brain and helped regulate my central nervous system and take back control.

I started listening to guided relaxation CDs. I prioritised sleep. I learned to listen to my body instead of pushing through it and pushing my feelings down.

And slowly, I began to feel safe in my body again.

Occasionally, the panic attack symptoms creep back in, but I look at them now as a way my mind, body and soul are communicating with me. They are reminding me that something isn’t right and needs to change. That I’m in overwhelm. I need to manage my stress better. And I’m grateful for that. In a way, it’s like a gift, a reminder to take better care of myself.