doing wonderfully.”
I concentrate on her words. On breathing in before slowly pushing it out. Little by little I begin to feel my body relax. First my fingers and toes. Then my arms and legs. After a while, everything feels limp as a noodle as she continues to murmur quietly. When she finally finishes, I sluggishly peel open my eyes, realizing that I no longer feel as if I’m being choked.
“Better?” She asks before sitting back and watching me closely.
“Yes, much better.” No longer does my body feel strung tight, riddled with anxiety and icy cold panic.
“Okay, good.” Then she asks rather gently, “Do you feel like you might need a prescription at this point?”
Taking another deep breath, I turn the question over in my mind. I have nothing against taking pills if they’re needed but… “No. It only happened once and I really don’t want to start taking anything again.”
I’ve been down that road before. And the last thing I need is to travel down the familiar path of it again. I want to try handling this on my own.
“Okay. I understand your feelings and I respect them but you need to promise me that if you experience another attack, you’ll call the office right away. Even though you don’t want to, we may need to revisit this subject again.”
“I will, I promise.” But my hope is that it won’t be necessary.
“Good. So why don’t you tell me how your classes are going so far. It’s been a little over three weeks now. Are you feeling overwhelmed by the workload?”
Something within me instantly settles because this is the easy part. School is the easy part. Except for last year, I’ve always excelled scholastically. Especially in math and science. So steering the conversation away from what caused my anxiety attack to my academic work load feels like safe terrain. No racing heartbeat. No frantic thoughts. No panicking.
This I can handle.
“My classes are going really well.” After the disaster of last fall, I have to admit that it feels good to be doing well.
“And working in the tutoring center hasn’t added too much stress?”
“No.” Immediately my thoughts turn to Cole and the fact that he’ll probably be popping in from time to time. “I really like tutoring. It fits into my schedule and I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It really sounds like you’ve got a good handle on everything. And other than one anxiety attack, everything is going well for you.” She smiles before jotting down a few more notes. “That has to feel good.”
I inhale another deep breath before slowly releasing it because she’s right. “It does feel good.” Not only am I excelling, I’m actually enjoying my classes which is a complete contrast from last year when I felt like I was drowning in my coursework almost from day one. Being here feels like a second chance and this time, I’m not going to blow it.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Dr. Thompson begins to wrap up our session. “We have about ten minutes left, is there anything else you’d like to discuss before you leave?”
For just a moment I chew on my bottom lip. “The guy who grabbed me…” Feeling a sudden surge of awareness, my words trail off. The mere thought of Cole has my insides prickling. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing but he affects me way more than I want him too. More than I’m comfortable with.
And he doesn’t seem to take no for answer. Which, honestly, with what happened last year, should really bother me… but it doesn’t. Tutoring him, grabbing some dinner with him, it only made me like him more. And just like I originally suspected, he’s way too easy to be around.
Leaning towards me, she presses the issue when I say nothing more. “What about him?”
“He’s in one of my classes. He also showed up at the tutoring center the other day.” Why am I
I concentrate on her words. On breathing in before slowly pushing it out. Little by little I begin to feel my body relax. First my fingers and toes. Then my arms and legs. After a while, everything feels limp as a noodle as she continues to murmur quietly. When she finally finishes, I sluggishly peel open my eyes, realizing that I no longer feel as if I’m being choked.
“Better?” She asks before sitting back and watching me closely.
“Yes, much better.” No longer does my body feel strung tight, riddled with anxiety and icy cold panic.
“Okay, good.” Then she asks rather gently, “Do you feel like you might need a prescription at this point?”
Taking another deep breath, I turn the question over in my mind. I have nothing against taking pills if they’re needed but… “No. It only happened once and I really don’t want to start taking anything again.”
I’ve been down that road before. And the last thing I need is to travel down the familiar path of it again. I want to try handling this on my own.
“Okay. I understand your feelings and I respect them but you need to promise me that if you experience another attack, you’ll call the office right away. Even though you don’t want to, we may need to revisit this subject again.”
“I will, I promise.” But my hope is that it won’t be necessary.
“Good. So why don’t you tell me how your classes are going so far. It’s been a little over three weeks now. Are you feeling overwhelmed by the workload?”
Something within me instantly settles because this is the easy part. School is the easy part. Except for last year, I’ve always excelled scholastically. Especially in math and science. So steering the conversation away from what caused my anxiety attack to my academic work load feels like safe terrain. No racing heartbeat. No frantic thoughts. No panicking.
This I can handle.
“My classes are going really well.” After the disaster of last fall, I have to admit that it feels good to be doing well.
“And working in the tutoring center hasn’t added too much stress?”
“No.” Immediately my thoughts turn to Cole and the fact that he’ll probably be popping in from time to time. “I really like tutoring. It fits into my schedule and I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It really sounds like you’ve got a good handle on everything. And other than one anxiety attack, everything is going well for you.” She smiles before jotting down a few more notes. “That has to feel good.”
I inhale another deep breath before slowly releasing it because she’s right. “It does feel good.” Not only am I excelling, I’m actually enjoying my classes which is a complete contrast from last year when I felt like I was drowning in my coursework almost from day one. Being here feels like a second chance and this time, I’m not going to blow it.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Dr. Thompson begins to wrap up our session. “We have about ten minutes left, is there anything else you’d like to discuss before you leave?”
For just a moment I chew on my bottom lip. “The guy who grabbed me…” Feeling a sudden surge of awareness, my words trail off. The mere thought of Cole has my insides prickling. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing but he affects me way more than I want him too. More than I’m comfortable with.
And he doesn’t seem to take no for answer. Which, honestly, with what happened last year, should really bother me… but it doesn’t. Tutoring him, grabbing some dinner with him, it only made me like him more. And just like I originally suspected, he’s way too easy to be around.
Leaning towards me, she presses the issue when I say nothing more. “What about him?”
“He’s in one of my classes. He also showed up at the tutoring center the other day.” Why am I
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