Page 88 of The Trouble with Players

“Well, panic attacks are the body’s way of handling those situations. Fight or flight. Do you remember what caused the first one?”

“What I say here is confidential, right?” I asked.

She nodded. “Unless I’m worried for your safety or the safety of others.”

“I understand,” I said, noticing a painting on the wall of a woman alone on a beach holding her hat to her head, as if the wind would take it if she didn’t. I couldn’t help but see the parallel to my life. On the beach, I was at peace, but something kept happening to try to steal away my happiness.

“So, you were going to tell me what caused the first panic attack,” she prompted.

I looked back to her. “I found out my father had an affair and fathered a child.”

“That’s some pretty heavy stuff,” she said.

“It’s bullshit,” I said matter-of-factly.

“How have you been handling the attacks?”

“I breathe.”

“Breathing’s very important. Does it always work?”

I shrugged. “Eventually.”

“Well, just know, that won’t always work. Sometimes the attacks are more intense than you can handle with simply breathing.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. I have a feeling worse ones are yet to come.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“I just found out my father cheated with another woman and fathered another child.”

“Oh,” she said.

“And…” I grabbed a fidget and toyed with the buttons on the square gadget.

“Go on,” she prompted.

“The child I just found out about…” I pressed the buttons on the fidget, unable to say the words aloud.

“Take your time,” she offered.

“It turns out that child is my boyfriend—well ex-boyfriend now.”

She blinked hard, though she recovered quickly. “That would certainly cause more intense attacks. But you seem to be dealing right now.”

“I’m good at faking it,” I said.

She grinned. “Aren’t we all? But, truthfully, tell me how you’re feeling about what you just discovered.”

“Truthfully?”

She nodded.

“I want to scream until I lose my voice. I want to hit something with a bat until I can’t swing it any longer. I want my father out of my life forever. And, I want this all to be a vicious joke.”

“Those are normal feelings when we’re grieving.”

“How can I be grieving if no one died?”

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