The Roots of Panic: Understanding The Factors Behind Panic Attacks

You may know that a panic attack feels like a physiological train wreck. You may also know that, biologically speaking, it’s your nervous system playing whack-a-mole with imaginary threats. But the real question is: why does this happen to some people and not others? Why does one person shake off stress like a duck in the rain, while another gets body-slammed by their nervous system over an intrusive thought about leaving the stove on? Like most things in psychology, there’s no single villain behind panic disorder—it’s more of a chaotic group effort. For decades, researchers have thrown out different theories, each offering a piece of the puzzle. Some blame neurotransmitter imbalances, others point to overactive fear circuits, metabolic quirks, or deep-seated cognitive distortions. But none of these fully explain the bigger question: If panic disorder is so useless, why does it even exist?

Evolution doesn’t keep energy-draining, self-destructive traits around for fun. If panic attacks were truly a defect, natural selection would have yeeted them out of the gene pool long ago. Yet, here they are, affecting millions. So, if panic still exists, it must serve some kind of purpose—or at least, it did at one point. So, what’s actually going on? Scientists have been poking at this question for decades, dissecting the causes of panic disorder from every possible angle.  And while they’ve uncovered some important clues, the full mystery hasn’t quite been cracked (yet). 

Theories of Panic: From Brain Chemistry to Evolutionary Quirks

Over the years, different theories have tried to explain why some people’s brains go into full-blown DEFCON 1 mode over minor stressors. Early theories of panic disorder laid the groundwork but didn’t fully explain its development. The biochemical theory linked panic attacks to imbalances in neurotransmitters like serotonin and GABA, while the metabolic theory highlighted triggers like lactic acid, CO2, caffeine, and nicotine. These insights identified biological vulnerabilities but didn’t clarify why some individuals are more susceptible [1]. Psychodynamic and cognitive theories focused on unconscious conflicts or distorted thought patterns. Later integrative models combined these perspectives, emphasizing that panic disorder arises from genetic predispositions for a dysregulated nervous system responses and early stress [2,3]. Although these theories provided valuable clues, they often stopped at identifying correlations, leaving unanswered questions about how these factors interact to create chronic panic episodes. We must look at in evolutionary to understand why it exists in the first place. Anything that doesn't serve survival of your genes gets whiped out in the process of evolution. So panic disorder must bring something to the table.

First of all, panic itself isn’t a malfunction. It’s a survival mechanism that, in the right context, saves your life. Increased heart rate, rapid breathing, and hyper-alertness may be inconvenient, but they’re what kept our ancestors from becoming lunch. Imagine them in the wild, faced with an approaching predator. That same response can save you today: think of slamming on the brakes to avoid a car accident or dodging out of the way of a cyclist you didn’t see coming. The sudden burst of physical arousal we recognize as a panic attack is your body’s way of pulling the "escape now" lever. In panic disorder, however, this system misfires. Instead of activating only in the face of real threats, it’s triggered by harmless situations; a crowded room, a fleeting thought, or sometimes seemingly nothing at all [4]. Why? Let me explain.

It’s often due to a combination of genetic predisposition and early life experiences. And those life experiences don’t have to be objectively severe. It all comes down to how your child brain interpreted them. Not getting that lollipop could have felt catastrophic at the time. You don’t need to dig for brutal memories to understand this, it’s about perception, not reality. Most importantly, it’s a feature, not a bug. Evolutionarily, the ones who overreacted and escaped survived, while those who missed real danger were wiped out of the gene pool. This "better safe than sorry" wiring persists because it works. In fact, it’s those very genes, carrying the blueprint for a low panic threshold, that may have ensured survival, giving their carriers the edge needed to escape danger and pass those genes along. So, if you have panic disorder, it’s a testament to your body’s evolutionary programming—an ancient survival strategy that’s just trying a little too hard [4].

Panic Disorder and the Fear of Disconnection: The Missing Link

So, what exactly is the panic system trying so hard to protect you from? Panic disorder is often linked to fear of external harm, but a closer look at the brain’s activation patterns reveals a different story. Panic isn’t just about the predator (or the cyclist) lurking in the shadows; it’s about being left alone to face it. Humans are social animals, evolved to thrive in groups. Being part of a group offers safety, shared resources, and mutual protection. Isolation, however, amplifies vulnerability, making the fear of separation deeply ingrained in your biology. In panic disorder, this fear of loss—whether of connection, security, or belonging—takes center stage. Panic doesn’t just activate the brain’s general fear circuitry; it taps into the separation distress system. This system drives the intense emotional reaction tied to feelings of abandonment or isolation. It’s not the fear of a specific threat; it’s the overwhelming sense of being exposed, unsupported, and alone in the face of life’s challenges [5].

This underlying fear of separation explains why panic disorder is often triggered by major life transitions or losses—leaving a familiar environment, the death of a loved one, or other significant changes. These events can leave you feeling emotionally unmoored, heightening your vulnerability to panic. Early life experiences may also play a critical role. Childhood separation anxiety, emotional neglect, or feelings of loneliness can hinder the development of affective regulation, leaving you less equipped to manage distress later in life. Panic disorder often reflects unacknowledged or dissociated feelings of isolation and unmet needs for connection. But it’s not so much the events themselves that matter—it’s your experience of them. The same situation can have vastly different impacts on two people or even on the same person at different times. For instance, getting lost in a grocery store as a toddler might be a fleeting memory for one person but a lasting source of vulnerability for another [5].

Panic disorder might have gotten a head start, but it doesn’t have to be the boss of you. Sure, your brain’s ancient survival system is trying a little too hard to keep you safe, but with the right tools and a bit of practice, you can teach it to chill. Emotional fitness isn’t about striving for some unreachable state of constant calm; let’s be real, that’s not happening. It’s about learning to ride out the storms without losing your footing—and maybe even looking down on at the chaos now and then. Whether you’re mastering the art of a grounding breath, tweaking the settings on your inner alarm system, or rewiring those sneaky emotional patterns, every step gets you closer to feeling more in control. The journey from panic to power isn’t about erasing your alarm system, but about turning the volume down and learning to work with it. Think of it as upgrading your operating system: you’re keeping the parts that help you and letting go of the parts that hold you back. Panic might be part of your story, but it doesn’t get to write the ending. That’s up to you. Emotional fitness is your plot twist and it’s a good one. (Also, maybe just take the steps.)

[1] Ankrom, S. (2019). Biological theories of panic disorder. https://www.verywellmind.com/biological-theories-of-panic-disorder-2583924.
[2] Fava, L., & Morton, J. (2009). Causal modeling of panic disorder theories. Clinical psychology review, 29(7), 623-637.
[3] Fava, L., & Morton, J. (2009). Causal modeling of panic disorder theories. Clinical psychology review, 29(7), 623-637.
[4] Nesse, R. M. (1987). An evolutionary perspective on panic disorder and agoraphobia. Ethology and Sociobiology, 8(1), 73-83.
[5] Francesetti, G., Alcaro, A., & Settanni, M. (2020). Panic disorder: attack of fear or acute attack of solitude? Convergences between affective neuroscience and phenomenological-Gestalt perspective. Research in Psychotherapy: Psychopathology, Process, and Outcome, 23(1), 77-87. https://doi.org/10.4081/ripppo.2020.421