Don’t Worry, You’ll Stop Freaking Out Soon

Don’t Worry, You’ll Stop Freaking Out Soon

I still remember the first ALS call I ever ran. My hands were sweating in my gloves, my brain was bouncing between protocols and panic, and all I could think was: What if I screw this up? What if I shouldn’t be here? No one warned me that the “freak-out phase” is part of the journey. Or maybe they did, and I didn’t believe them. Either way, I was in it—and it was loud, messy, and full of self-doubt.


You come into EMS thinking you’re ready. You’ve passed the tests, you’ve done the ride time, you’ve visualized saving lives. But the moment it’s actually your responsibility… that’s when it hits.

And if no one tells you that fear is normal, it’s easy to think it means you’re not cut out for this. I thought that. In fact, part of me hoped someone would tell me I wasn’t ready, just so I wouldn’t have to keep climbing this brutally steep learning curve.

But no one did. And looking back, thank God they didn’t.


I had several years of BLS experience before starting as a paramedic, and I still felt like I was drowning. It wasn’t because I didn’t care—it was because I cared so much that I didn’t want to mess anything up. That pressure? It’s heavy. But it’s also the thing that drives us to grow.

Jaime said it best during our conversation: confidence isn’t something you wake up with—it’s something you build, little by little, in real time, under real stress. You do a hard call, you survive it, and you realize you’re stronger than you thought.


There were people around me who believed in me before I believed in myself. And that belief? It carried me. Sometimes all it takes is one person saying, “You’ve got this,” when you’re absolutely sure you don’t.

Mentorship, support, tough love—all of it matters. But the freak-out doesn’t last forever. And it’s okay to be scared—it just means you care.


I see you. I’ve been you. And I want you to know that your fear doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re learning. Growing. Becoming.

The version of me that once cried in the ambulance bay now teaches, mentors, and excels. But that version of me only exists because I was willing to face the chaos and keep showing up.

So if no one’s said it yet—don’t worry, you’ll stop freaking out soon. And when you do, you’ll be amazed at how far you’ve come.

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