Page 14 of Trustfall
She struggled initially, but gradually, her breathing started to even out.
“You’re doing great.” I kept encouraging her.
Once I sensed the tension ease from her body, I helped her up off the floor and guided her to her bed. I switched on the bedside lamp and asked, “Can you list five things you can see around the room?”
She looked up at me through tear-streaked lashes before scanning her surroundings. As a nurse, she knew I was using the five senses grounding technique and didn’t question me.
“My dresser, a photo collage of us when we were kids, a succulent plant, blackout curtains, and my slippers.”
“Great! Now, how about four things you can touch?”
“My bedding, my decorative pillows, my necklace, and you,” she said, placing her hand on my knee with a timid smile.
“And what about three things you can hear?” I asked.
“The fan, the outside traffic, and my breathing.”
“Can you name two things you smell?”
She inhaled deeply. “The fabric softener from my bedding and my diffuser.”
“Amazing, last one, tell me one thing you can taste.”
I watched as she rubbed her lips together. “My cherry lip balm.”
“You did so good! How are you feeling now?”
“Embarrassed,” she quickly answered.
“There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. You saw me at my absolute lowest when my mom passed. There’s literally nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Would you help me hide a body?”
Her voice was low, and it took me a second to process what I thought I had heard. “Um, are you being real right now?”
“No, of course not. It was a joke.”
She did her best to brush it off, but the unsettling feeling I had from earlier was back. Something was definitely amiss.
“I know you haven’t wanted to talk much about your past since you left . . . is there something else I should know? It might help to talk about it.”
She shook her head vehemently while avoiding my eyes.
“How often do you have these panic attacks?” I asked.
“It’s been a while.”
“Did something happen to trigger it?”
Her complexion paled as the color drained from her face.
“Lils, it’s me.” I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind; it will pass.”
“Sometimes confiding in someone we trust can help lighten the weight we’re carrying. It took me a long time to learn this,and to be honest, it’s still a struggle some days. That being said, keeping your thoughts locked inside can cause them to spiral, magnifying them to the point where we feel absolutely powerless.”
I shifted my body and sat beside her on the bed, leaning against the tufted headboard.
