Page 94 of Her Pretty Words

“Well, I spent time with my friends like you suggested,” I say.

“And?”

“And I didn’t have a nightmare that night. But the next day I couldn’t focus on my work, so I requested Macy’s location, which she sent. I watched a little blue dot slowly move across the map for several hours. So, I’d say nine.”

She smiles and writes something down. “All of our sessions, you answered ten. What brought you from a ten to a nine?”

“A nine isn’t good,” I say.

“It’s an improvement.”

“Hardly,” I mumble. “It’s not a ten because after looking at her location for most of the day to make sure it was still moving, I made myself stop. And at first it felt like I had lost whatever semblance of control I had. I reminded myself that Macy is smart and she’s a good driver. I realized checking her location wasn’t going to change anything. It made me feel like I was in control, but I wasn’t, and staring at a blue dot all day is pathetic, so I went for a run and then met my friend Elliot at the restaurant he works at.”

Linda smiles the entire time I tell my story. “What did you do differently that day?”

“I accepted that I don’t have control over everything.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Horrible…but also a little relieved. Worrying was my way of feeling in control, but it doesn’t change anything and just makes me feel sick to my stomach.”

“Your anxiety might be at a nine, but your progress is substantial. This is really brave work.”

I give her a tight-lipped nod.

“I think we can pick up where we left off last session with our EMDR. Are you okay with that?”

I inhale a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Okay, I want you to bring up that memory we started with last time. Let me know when you have it.”

I remember it. The look on that police officer’s face when she struggled to tell me what happened. I nod.

“What thoughts come up when you think of this image. Tell me with an ‘I am’ statement.”

I think of that moment when the officer told me my family went to heaven. And then my disbelief, so I say, “I am shocked.”

“Okay, and how much do you believe this statement on a scale from one to seven.”

“Um, I guess seven.” I shrug.

“Think of that memory and the words ‘I am shocked.’ How disturbing is this to you on a scale from one to seven.”

My heart races. “Six.”

“Where do you feel it in your body?”

“My chest.”

“Okay, let’s get started Grayson, and if at any point it gets too much, I want you to say the word ‘Stop.’ Okay?”

I nod.

“Go to that memory and tap your legs bilaterally, and let’s see what comes up.”

I do so, closing my eyes and letting my mind take over. Fragments of that night come to mind. I feel every emotion I did when I was six, and then Linda tells me to open my eyes after about a minute and asks what came up. I explain it to her briefly, and she tells me to keep going with it. I let my mind lead me where it needs to go, to the memories that need to be reprocessed, so I can heal. By the time it’s over, my eyes feel swollen from all the tears I shed.

We talk for the last five minutes of session. “I think what stuck with me after all these years is howhappyI was that day. Obviously, I was upset that Macy was going home, but for the most part, it was a good day. There was no…warning. One second, I was a little kid playing with my best friend, and the next, I was an orphan who lost not only my parents, but my twin sister. I think my mind tries to protect me by constantly being ready for it to happen again, reminding me that tragedy can break out at any moment.”

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