Page 48 of Color of Love

“How are you?” she asked, sitting across from him when he took his seat on the couch. She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him. He thought back to their session last week and how much things had changed between them in that time. He felt anxious about opening up but he realized he trusted her and he wanted her help. She had already done more than any other psychologist or therapist he had seen so if anyone could help him, it would be her. He ran his hand through his hair and his stomach churned as he prepared to open up and let her see the beast inside.

“Um, not great,” he answered honestly. Her eyes widened and she sat up straighter in her chair, her brow pinched in concern.

“Really? Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked, hope lining her words. He met her honey eyes, beseeching him, begging him to open up and let her help. A deal’s a deal, he reminded himself.

“I had another panic attack yesterday; it was pretty bad.”

“Do you know what brought it on?”

He shrugged. “I was reading some case notes about a suicide and think it triggered memories of the incident in Anderson.”

“How did you feel having another panic attack?”

He thought for a moment. “Frustrated, tired, fed up. I’d felt like I was doing okay and then this comes along and reminds me that I’m not.” He flushed at finally admitting that he wasn’t okay. She came and sat next to him, facing him, her expression and eyes earnest. She was one of the most genuine people he had ever met.

“You shouldn’t feel like this is a step back at all. Your progress won’t be a straight trajectory showing immediate improvement. It’ll be bumpy, you’ll have setbacks and sometimes it might feel worse than ever but that’s the journey and you can’t let it discourage you,” she said.

She was right. Of course he wouldn’t be fixed at once. It had taken years of trauma to slowly break him down, he wouldn’t be rebuilt in a few sessions. But he struggled to remember that at the time when the episodes hit.

“How do you feel when you’re having a panic attack?” she asked. “Describe it to me.”

He swiveled on the couch to face her better and their knees touched, but he didn’t move away. He wanted to feel connected to her. He was enjoying talking to her and the emotional and mental connection they were creating. It felt like true companionship, something he couldn’t remember having experienced before.

“My breathing starts getting out of control, that’s what usually leads to me passing out.”

“Okay, what else?”

“My uh…chest gets tight and burns, my vision starts to go, and my hands shake. I hear ringing in my ears and my entire body shakes. I also feel nauseated.”

She smiled triumphantly and he felt himself smiling at her reaction before he wiped it from his face.

“Great, thank you. So, it sounds to me like it starts to attack some of your senses and your basic motor functions. There’s a couple of things I can show you to help combat this while we’re working through your thought process. They’ll take practice, it’ll be hard but you’re a very focused and determined person, so I know you can do it,” she said, and he felt his chest puff up with pride at her words. He was focused and determined, he had built his career around that. He’d just lost his way recently and needed to remember who he was. He would not be beaten by this and with her help, he would conquer it.

“The one I would like to work through today is the five to one technique. It’s a grounding technique that’s useful in situations of strong emotion, like panic. This will be most effective if you use it to try and pull yourself out of the panic attack by focusing on something else, to distract your mind, which is where this is all stemming from.”

He nodded, trying to absorb what she was saying.

“It’ll be difficult when you’re in the throes of a panic attack, but this is why we practice, so you’ll be able to recall it easier. It starts off with naming five things you can see,” she added and then paused like she was waiting for him to start speaking.

“Oh, you wanna start now?” he asked. She nodded. “Okay, uh…” he looked around the room, feeling stupid because his mind completely blanked.

“Bookcase, desk, plant, pen and phone,” he finished, and she smiled at him.

“Great! Now what are four things you can feel?”

“Like, emotions or physical sensations? Objects?” he asked, unsure.

“Anything, any of those. It’s whatever you want to grab onto that will ground you, whether that’s physically or mentally.”

“Okay, uh, well I can feel the couch,” he began, and he closed his eyes, feeling awkward again, but he wanted to concentrate.

“Denim,” he said, touching his jeans. “Hungry and…” He cleared his throat. “Nervous.” He opened his eyes to find her beaming at him, that damn smile that always made him feel like a superhero.

“You’re doing great, you’ve got the hang of it! Now, what are three things you can hear?”

He closed his eyes again, needing to focus. He tried to shut out the world and used his instincts to home in on his hearing.

“I can hear…birds singing outside. Hilda talking on the phone, and my pulse pounding in my ears.”

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