Hiatus

By Khamron Brooks

Did you know that, while in a state of heightened anxiety, the brain will switch its mechanisms for breathing from passive to active? As a part of its fight-or-flight response, this allows the body to try and get more oxygen to the brain. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware of this fact when I had my first panic attack in 2019.

I had always taken pride in my ability to adapt to any situation I was in. My last semester of college definitely wasn’t an easy situation in any aspect. I knew I was struggling to manage studio classes, a part-time job, and an internship, but I guess I wasn’t aware of just how much stress I had been putting myself through.

It all caught up to me in that moment, being coached to breathe while my arms became numb in the back of a van on the side of a highway between Las Vegas and Los Angeles. It’s weird to imagine what a panic attack feels like until you actually experience one. I always thought that those who had suffered from one were either exaggerating their reaction to the situation or their recollection of the event altogether. I had never felt like I was going to die more than in that moment. I was lucky to have so many caring friends with me to get me through that moment. And, though getting through that moment was like waking up from a nightmare, it was still a harsh reality I fell back into.

With the end of the semester in sight, I still had a lot of work and planning to do. After being in school for 16 years, all you know and everything you do revolves around being in school. And I was quickly approaching the threshold of post-graduation, leaving everything I knew behind me and stepping into what I frankly referred to as the rest of my life. Whatever happened next, I chose the direction. I wasn’t sure how it was going to turn out, but I was excited. I had my hopes. I even let my family know that I planned on moving out as soon as I found a job after graduation. I was confident that, with all the work that I had put into these last few months, it wouldn’t be long before I would be working as an actual designer. For the first few months of the new year, it felt like everything was roughly going according to plan. I had a new resumé, I applied and got interviews to several places, and I even bought a new suit to mark the occasion. Things were looking up!

----------

I remember quarantine being announced the day after my 23rd birthday. At this point I would still get the occasional panic attack, several of which I deemed bad enough for me to be taken to the emergency room. At the time I had convinced myself that it was something more serious, unaware that this feeling of doom was another symptom of my developing panic disorder. With no evidence as to any underlying ailment, I was quickly treated and dismissed with little done to comfort my hypochondria. Having this new weight on my mind, I was too scared to do anything and, with the new restrictions in place, it gave me the perfect excuse not to.

My sleeping pattern quickly suffered a 180° switch. My reasoning became that I’d be safer sleeping if everyone else was awake and could check in on me if something went wrong. Everything felt so surreal. I remember thinking over and over again about the cruel irony that my first taste of post-graduate life was fated to staying inside and finding ways to entertain myself. I watched a lot of television and played a lot of video games, trying to fill the hours of the day. I was lucky that some of my family was still working so we could support ourselves, but I felt so lost and as if I was a burden to everyone for not being able to carry my own weight.

After finally discovering/accepting that the source of my physical stress was from a panic disorder, I was able to medicate and at least feel like I was taking a tangible step forward. I think the reason why it was so hard for me to accept what I was going through was because I had so thoroughly embedded a desensitization to stress that my body and mind were at odds with how they reacted to it. I would show physical signs of anxiety while in my mind I felt completely fine. With this looming weight starting to lessen, I decided to rethink my goals for the year. I had always taken pride in my ability to adapt, what was this situation besides another thing to adapt to? Although the circumstances at large were unmistakably tragic, maybe this would be a good time for me to try and recover from the stress of the year before.

As the world began to open up again, I started going out cautiously and allowing myself to let go of the expectations I had put on myself for so long, allowing myself to just live for once. Unbeknownst to me, things I had already accomplished were making moves for me. At the end of 2020, at the recommendation of an instructor who recognized my passion for drawing in school, I fulfilled my first professional commission: a series of illustrations for a children’s museum exhibit in San Jose. I had also finished an illustrated children’s book that began to reignite my love for storytelling and design. Though quarantine had halted the work on the installation of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas’ new Student Union banners, December of 2020 saw its continuation.

Being able to see the product of my efforts after a year of feeling like a burden, I felt a warm sense of pride and comfort. It was as if the gratification of all of that effort was delayed in order to communicate in that moment that everything is temporary, and the situation I was in will pass as well.

I sit here, typing this from over a year in hindsight, on a keyboard attached to a computer sitting on a desk in a house all of which I didn’t have a year ago. I sit here, thinking that I’m fortunate enough to be able to complain about waking up early to go to work another day as a graphic designer. And as I sit here, I’m grateful for the lesson I learned: for every hard-fought step there is a point where you must remind yourself that it’s okay to breathe.

Khamron Brooks is a full-time graphic designer and aspiring illustrator/concept artist. His work spans from large-scale banner and mural designs (such as those at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas' Student Union) to branding design and motion graphics. His passion lies in creating characters and building worlds that tell stories! Connect with Khamron at:

Thank you for visiting Humanities Heart to Heart, a program of Nevada Humanities. Any views or opinions represented in posts or content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage are personal and belong solely to the author or contributor and do not represent those of Nevada Humanities, its staff, or any donor, partner, or affiliated organization, unless explicitly stated. At no time are these posts understood to promote particular political, religious, or ideological points of view; advocate for a particular program or social or political action; or support specific public policies or legislation on behalf of Nevada Humanities, its staff, any donor, partner, or affiliated organization. Omissions, errors, or mistakes are entirely unintentional. Nevada Humanities makes no representations as to the accuracy or completeness of any information on these posts or found by following any link embedded in these posts. Nevada Humanities reserves the right to alter, update, or remove content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage at any time.

Kathleen KuoJune 27, 2022JComment