Speaking as someone who suffered badly from panic attacks in my teenage years I can attest to the fact that they are no joke. Once you get to the hyperventilating stage you start experiencing physical symptoms (dizzyness, tunnel vision, numb and tingling extremities, lack of coordination) which cause even more anxiety. If you're used to experiencing panic attacks you can understand that they are a side effect of the hyperventilation and adrenaline release and not something to be worried about in themselves, but for anyone having an attack for the first time they're very scary symptoms indeed, especially if you're in the middle of nowhere. For me, counting breaths (count to three whilst breathing in, count to six whilst breathing out) helped stop the hyperventilation and once I reached my 20s the attacks stopped almost completely.
I've only come close to loosing it in the woods at night once, and that was while I was out trying to get sound recordings of owls in Fernworthy Forest on Dartmoor. I'd finished recording, packed up my gear and was headed back to the car. I was already slightly on edge as while I was recording a couple of shots had been fired somewhere in the forest. When I played back the recording later they were very faint and probably miles away but at the time it sounded like they were somewhere in the trees just to my left. So there I was, walking across a clearing, whistling and generally trying to appear as un-deerlike as possible to the hordes of poachers I now suspected were stalking me. Up until this point it had been a dark night with thick cloud cover, but at that moment the moon hit a break in the clouds and came on like a floodlight. Looking round the newly illuminated clearing I discovered that I was standing dead centre in one of the stone circles which are scattered throughout the forest. I'm not particularly superstitious, but I'd challenge anyone who has just been lit up by a shaft of moonlight in the middle of a 3000 year old sacred circle not to feel a shiver down their spine. "Just chance", I told myself. "The clearing was obviously made around the circle so it's not surprising that you ended up in the middle, and the forecast said the sky was going to clear." I walked out of the circle and headed on towards the car. I was another 100 yards down the track when I developed the absolute, unshakable certainty that I was being followed. As I walked I could hear a faint tap of footsteps behind me. If I stopped, so did they, and when I looked round the track was deserted. The rest of the walk back to the car seemed to take several times as long as the walk out had, and it wasn't until I swung my microphone tripod off my shoulder to unlock the door that I noticed how the loose audio cable tapped against it every time I took a step...