The tones goes off and the adrenaline hits. That part makes sense.
But sometimes, I’m just sitting in my car, and my chest tightens anyway.
No tone. No call. No sirens. Just my own nervous system tapping me on the shoulder, like:
“Hey idiot. You forgot to panic today.”
False alarms.
I’ve had calls where the “emergency” was nothing.
Just anxiety. Or gas. Or heartbreak that felt like cardiac pain.
But the fear was real.
The body doesn’t necessarily lie. It just overreacts sometimes.
Same with me.
I’ve done a full primary assessment on myself, alone in the dark, 3am, trying to convince my own heart to stop trying to run away down the hallway.
HR 132. BP high. Everything else feel fine.
It’s not nothing, but it’s not what it looks like either.
I’ve learned to listen differently.
To say,
“You’re safe and you’re here. You’ve felt this before and survived it every time.”
That’s the trick with false alarms.
You don’t ignore them (not that I could)
You just don’t alter your whole life for one.
But for Christ’s sake, relax.
Ghosts of the Navigator 