What emerges is a sort of literary laboratory of consciousness, anatomizing an all-consuming yet elusive feeling-pattern to explore what it takes to break the tyranny of worry and what it means to feel at home in oneself. Part of the splendor of the book is the way Stern unspools the thread of being to the very beginning, all the way to the small child predating conscious memory ... Little Panic stands as a mighty antidote to that universal fear [that 'there’s a single, unattainable, correct way to be human'].
At times, Stern’s obsessive ruminations can be exhausting. I wanted to shake her and say, 'Get some perspective,' but this is precisely the point: For a person with panic disorder, perspective is impossible.
While the supposed tension of the book rests on a discovery—the diagnosis Stern finally receives—the real tension lies in how and whether she will evolve in spite of it ... Eventually Stern learns that she’s not made of paper and won’t blow away. All the times she thought she would die, she didn’t. And some of the 'terrifying' things she thought would happen actually did; she didn’t get married, she didn’t have children. But nevertheless she adapted and flourished in other ways .... 'Here I am now,' she writes, 'living inside the very future I feared, imagining it would kill me. Yet I am O.K. I am alive.'
Don’t expect a traditional happily-ever-after ending; but don’t expect a gloomy one, either. Stern’s story is a good reminder that all people, including those who 'learn differently,' need empathy and human connection.
Stern tries to convey how wracked she was with nervousness, uncertainty and fear ... The problem is that unlike many other autobiographies, there are no universal lessons in Little Panic. It reads like an incessant whine ... Also detracting from the kvetchy autobiography is Stern's voice as a writer. In memories from her childhood, Stern writes with a erudite elegance that a kid simply wouldn't have—even one who grew up in a sophisticated household and attended private school ... While sporadic bursts of beauty in Stern's writing...prevent Little Panic from being unbearable, the uneven narrative tone and crass piggybacking on the Patz family's tragedy make this [a] collection of dispatches to skip.
The riveting story is mostly chronological, as Stern deals with her daily fears up to age 25, the age when a therapist finally provided the proper medical term for her outsized anxieties ... In one of the chapters, Stern shares with readers a day-by-day account of a full week, conveying what it is like inside her head. At the end of selected chapters, the author includes actual paragraphs from the reports of multiple therapists she consulted, sometimes willingly, sometimes under duress. Stern is such a skilled stylist—and such an unforgiving judge of herself—that the memoir radiates a morbid fascination.
Readers who have had panic attacks or have experience with a similar disorder will instantly relate to Stern’s experiences; those who do not will come to understand the disease’s terrifying power—and the utter relief that comes when it is finally identified and treated. Honest and deeply felt, Stern’s story delivers a raw window into the terrifying world of panic disorders.
