Understanding Anxiety Attacks: The Primitive Brain in a Modern World

Making a Mountain Out of a Molehill

Anxiety is one of the most primitive emotions we have. It’s the same survival mechanism that kept our ancestors alive when they were running from tigers. Back then, it made sense because if you didn’t feel fear when a predator lurked nearby, well, congratulations, you just became tiger dinner. Fast-forward to today, and while there are no malicious predators on sight (unless you count tight project deadlines, meeting in-laws and awkward social interactions), our brains still hit the panic button over the smallest things.

For some, this fear morphs into full-blown panic attacks. The body goes into fight-or-flight mode over situations that aren’t life-threatening. But logic rarely wins against biology. The amygdala, the tiny, almond-shaped part of our brain responsible for processing fear doesn’t know that public speaking or exams aren′t actual predators. It just sounds the alarm, flooding the body with adrenaline, making the heart race, palms sweat, and thoughts spiral out of control.

Anxiety is like a jealous car alarm. It’s supposed to go off when someone tries to steal your car, but instead, it blares at full volume because a leaf landed on the hood.

What Could Go Wrong?

My first experience with severe anxiety was while speaking in front of my school. It wasn’t exactly a train wreck. I didn’t freeze up like a malfunctioning robot, but I also wasn’t able to nonchalantly deliver my speech. Something felt off. My legs felt like noodles, and my voice shook with embarrassment, much like that time I awkwardly asked for more food at a distant relative’s dinner: “The chicken tastes good, can I have some more?” (In Nepalese culture, asking for more food in dinners can be construed greedy/lack of table manners).

Despite moments of nervousness, I never saw myself as an anxious person. I can handle things that others find terrifying. Physical confrontation? Let’s go! Horror movies? Bring it on (Just last week I watched the Spider-Walk scene from The Exorcist, and that eerie ending from Hereditary without breaking a sweat). In fact, I watch horror movies to calm my nerves. But put me on a stage in front of an audience, and suddenly, I’d rather fight a bear (It′s Khabib time!).

Suck it up, Buttercup!

In 2018, I studied at the Indian Institute of Management Ahmedabad (IIMA) for a semester as an exchange student. This university is home to some of the smartest, most confident young people in the world. (Fun fact: The acceptance rate at IIMA is even lower than Harvard’s!)

These were the types of students who could argue their way out of a parking ticket, ace an exam on three hours of sleep, and deliver flawless speeches with little preparation. From the start, I felt like a small fish in a big pond, like a goldfish that had accidentally swum into a shark tank. The sharks weren’t attacking, but my brain was screaming me to get out.

There was one time when I had to present, and I remember my body switching on survival mode, sweaty palms, nervous ticks, weak legs and frozen mind (now that I think, nobody was even paying attention, it was just me manufacturing worst case scenarios in my head). I remember uttering gibberish, as my mind went straight into auto-pilot mode. There was no connection between what my mind was thinking vs my speech. I stunk the presentation so bad that I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I think that was the point that really shook my confidence (along with other embarrassing moments like the time I went for a handshake while the office colleague went for a hug, resulting in an awkward half-hug-half-handshake hybrid).

The thing with anxiety is that it doesn’t just show up politely and knock on your door. Instead, it kicks the door down with full-blown rave in your head. During these times, the body is convinced that this presentation (or exams) are the most dangerous situation one could ever been in. My heart pounds like when Nacho Varga had to make the pill switch on Hector, or that dreaded sense of feeling when you are called into the principle′s office and you must make a long walk lingered with uncertainty.

The Mind is Your Biggest Heckler (And It Never Retires)

Here’s the frustrating part: this anxiety doesn’t last forever. It hits like a tsunami, but after about 15–30 seconds, it starts to calm down. It’s like the brain suddenly realizes, “Oh wait, we’re not actually about to die,” and slowly powers down the alarms. Once I make it past that dreaded 30-second mark, people feel significantly better, almost like the body has been tricked into believing that one has survived a real threat. It’s like trying to talk down a security guard who’s already tackled me to the ground: “Sir, please, I promise I belong here.”

But those first 30 seconds is absolute chaos. And the worst part is, the brain loves imagining disaster scenarios right before doing something important. It nonchalantly opens a special Cringe Compilation folder and plays them on repeat right before I speak. It sits you down and says, “Okay, but what if you forget all your words? What if your voice cracks so badly that everyone assumes you’ve just hit puberty?”

Why this study?

I wanted to do a quick study on how anxiety influences people, their triggers, the severity of their symptoms, and how they manage it. I′ve found this dataset from Kaggle (1200 rows). I hope to answer:

-What are the most common panic attack triggers, and which ones hit the hardest?

-Do smokers experience more severe panic attacks, and is alcohol consumption a factor?

-Does caffeine make panic attacks worse?

-Do people with anxiety or PTSD have a higher heart rate and panic attack frequency?

Common Triggers

Many people reported "Unknown" as their panic attack trigger, suggesting they struggle to identify what sets them off. Triggers can be subtle and subconscious, making them hard to recognize. Some may react to crowds, caffeine, or past memories without realizing the connection.

PTSD and social anxiety triggers have the highest panic severity (~5.77 on average), which makes sense. A person with PTSD might get transported back to a traumatic memory (when I was a kid, my parents used to ask me to show some cool yoga moves to the relatives and belt out a song too… as a bonus).

Do smokers experience more severe panic attacks, and is alcohol consumption a factor?

Smokers experience higher panic severity (5.91 vs. 5.44) compared to non-smokers. However, their alcohol consumption is slightly lower. This suggests that smoking may have a stronger impact on panic severity than alcohol.

(However I′ve seen a lot of people smoke to calm their nerves after a panic attack)

Does caffeine make panic attacks worse? (Spoiler: YES.)

People who consume more caffeine (3-5 cups per day) show a higher panic attack severity (~5.67 panic score). However, the number of high-severity cases is fairly distributed, meaning caffeine might contribute to severity but isn’t the sole factor.

I once had three few cups of coffee before a job interview, thinking it would help me stay focused. Instead, I ended up sweating with the heart thumping. (If you’re already prone to panic attacks, caffeine is like adding fuel to a fire, however, it may not work on everyone).

Do people with anxiety or PTSD have a higher heart rate and panic attack frequency?

People with Anxiety and PTSD experience panic attacks about 4.5 times on average—which is four and a half times too many, honestly. Their average heart rate is over 120 bpm, which is literally the same as someone making a 100m sprint. ( It′s like you′re in coffee shop watching memes and all of a sudden your body feels under attack and you′re like "who are we fighting? It’s just me and my overpriced coffee." No wonder why anxiety feels so exhausting).

Frequency vs. Duration and Age

People with more frequent panic attacks tend to experience a wider range of durations, while those with fewer panic attacks often have shorter durations. Some groups may experience shorter, more frequent episodes, while others have longer but less frequent ones. Overall, we could say that panic attacks don’t follow a single patter, some people have quick bursts of anxiety, while others experience longer, more intense episodes. Also, there′s not much difference in the pattern of anxiety between the sexes (I think the data points are the way they are for non-binary because of lack of data).

So what?

Identifying panic attack triggers can be as elusive as finding a needle in a haystack, especially when they lurk in the subconscious. Factors like PTSD, social anxiety, smoking, and caffeine each play a significant role in exacerbating panic attacks.

However, people fear anxiety (like me sometimes). Instead, it should be seen as a friend, a part of oneself that comes and goes. There's no need to fear it. It′s a natural part of life. There's nothing inherently wrong. (If you go to therapy, this is exactly what they′ll say).