I was almost 30 when I had my first ever panic attack. I was alone and convinced it was a heart attack, called 911, and felt fine by the time the ambulance reached the hospital. Embarrassed, I was ready to brush it off, but instead saw a therapist for the first time. She took out a stopwatch and had me breathe through a narrow straw. Within seconds, my face and limbs went completely numb; I couldn't move, and was amazed that I could form words. I sat with my head in my hands for what felt like forever. Eventually it passed, I felt utterly exhausted, and she asked what I thought the stopwatch said. "I dunno, 10-15 minutes?" Nope, 90 seconds. That experience made me start taking my mental health seriously.