The Agony of Watching My Partner Suffer the Mother of All Panic Attacks
Sensory hyperarousal plus rage equals ...
There's quite some commotion back here, I think. I crack the bedroom door and peer inside.
And there he is: flat on his back, on top of the covers, his hands folded over his chest. He looks like he's in his coffin, I think for a moment. Then the illusion is shattered by the roar of his snores. Aha! This is what I've bee…
