I’m lying on the couch. It’s an hour past our “normal” bedtime, though nothing feels normal anymore. My wife, in a panic, just told me to get out of the room. It’s the second night, in a row, that this has happened. It’s only been ten months or so of counseling and a month of anti-anxiety supplements. Yet I feel desperate for help. Improvement has been slow but the panic attacks have started to get physical (towards herself and me if I try to help). 
Our last friends from college moved away a month ago and we are alone. I’m starting to watch myself shut down and experience anxiety, anger, and depression. I’m overworking myself to provide for her while she struggles to heal. I’m taking on every part of planning and all the household chores. It’s my responsibility and I feel selfish complaining, but the last two days, the thankless blood sweat and tears… I may just be dramatic but I don’t know if I can keep going.

This panic attack (or whatever technical term is appropriate for what just happened) is the result of trying to make a plan for tomorrow. We discuss a few ideas but one prospective social event is “hanging over her head”. She panics as we talk about it and hits herself in the head. I try to block the hits and soothe her as much as possible. We talk about it after she relaxes some and I try to help her work through the specific fears of the social event (something her therapist has talked about doing). It is completely ineffective. She wanted me to say “let’s not go, I don’t want to go” to take the stressor away.  I don’t want to just make it go away. That doesn’t fix anything. Of course, my foolish alternative sent her into another panic and now I’m here on the couch. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m out of ideas, running desperately low on hope, and wishing I had someone to hold me.