5-7-7 Rule: Breathe in for 5 seconds, hold your breath for 7 seconds, and exhale for 7 seconds.
That’s bull.

How can I count to 5 when all I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest, each beat growing loud and more deafening?
How can I count to 7 when all I can feel is the rough carpet beneath my fingers as I cling to something, anything, for some semblance of hope?

As I lay on the ground weeping, my labored, uneven breath grows quieter and quieter until I can’t hear anything at all. The silence might be worse than the sound of my sobs.

There is no one. I have no one.

This would be a really good scene in a movie. At the climax of the film, the protagonist breaks down during a panic attack. The sounds of a string orchestra grow louder as she clutches her hair and screams. The theater is only filled with the sounds of her weeping as each viewer’s hand freezes in their bag of popcorn. They are encapsulated. They are sympathetic.
They have no idea.

I chuckle.

This is it. I must be going insane. Who in any stable mental condition would imagine their panic attack as a scene in a movie? Who could laugh during a panic attack?

I am not ready to go insane yet. The silence disappears, and I hear my pathetic breathing once more. I focus on it. Breathe in—1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Hold—1, 2, 3, 4. A sob gets caught in my throat and I can’t hold my breath any longer. Exhale—1, 2, 3. I let out the breath too fast. I have no more air.

Try again.
Breathe in—1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Hold—1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.
Exhale—1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

The string orchestra stops playing. The viewers continue eating their popcorn. I have survived another scene.