When his son was about a year old, William’s* wife left him alone with the baby to run a few errands. She had been gone around a half hour when he called her, panicked, and begged her to come home. When she walked through the front door, she found him on the kitchen floor with his head between his knees, their son playing quietly by his side. Breathlessly, he told her that he had felt like the walls were closing in. He held his hand over his heart as he described the feeling that it would beat straight through his chest. He was having a panic attack. His wife listened, put her hands on each side of his face, and said, “You’re getting help.”
