Scars Of The Past || Jerrie

Four

Jade

"So have you and Jackson made it to the beach yet?"

I fidgeted in my stiff-backed office chair, unable to look directly at the image of Dr. Nelson on my monitor. Even half a country away, I still didn't like giving my therapist answers that were sure to disappoint. "Not all the way, no."

"Part of the way, then?"

Did a hundred yards count? The beach was a half mile from my house, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world. Every time I thought about going, the enormity of the task overwhelmed me. And I was starting to regret ever telling her about my desire to take Jackson to the ocean. "We've gone a little way."

"But not very far," Dr. Nelson said. Her tone told me that she knew exactly how little progress I had made on this particular item. Though her voice was gentle, it unleashed a flood of guilt that made me shift in discomfort.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Nelson," I murmured. Tears threatened to spill and I blinked them back angrily. "I really do want to go."

"There's no reason to be sorry. This is difficult for you. Let's talk about why this walk challenges you so much, okay? Then we'll figure out how you can gain the confidence to make it all the way next time."

Nodding, I dabbed at my eyes. "Okay."

"Do you need a minute to breathe? I want you present here. Let's try very hard not to slip into a negative place while we talk about this, all right?"

I nodded again, then closed my eyes and took a deep breath from my abdomen. As I exhaled slowly, the tension began to melt away. Dr. Nelson had taught my somatic breathing exercises during our first sessions together, and though I used to feel self-conscious doing them, they had become an effective way to center myself. I concentrated on the sensation of the office chair cradling my body, on the sound of Jackson's deep snoring as he dozed at my feet. After a minute or so, I opened my eyes and gazed into the webcam.

"Welcome back," she said, smiling gently. "Take a moment to feel what you feel."

I took stock. The tension in my shoulders had eased, and I was more grounded. No longer on the verge of tears, thankfully. I was ready to talk this through. "I tried to walk to the beach yesterday, but we barely got off my property before I had to turn around."

"What happened?"

I shrugged, then paused. Though I was more practiced at talking about my fears now, it was never easy to put my thoughts and feelings into words. "I slipped into a state of hypervigilance and just couldn't get out of it. It's hard to make myself leave the house when I'm convinced something terrible will happen."

"Did you use your mantra?"

Early on in therapy, Dr. Nelson had taught me to repeat a phrase or a poem when my symptoms appeared. Something with a strong rhythm to help take my focus off the anxiety while reminding me that I was safe in the present. I had chosen two lines from the poem "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley, which I first read shortly after being diagnosed with PTSD. "I am the master of my fate; / I am the captain of my soul." Usually it worked. This time nothing had seemed to calm me down. "I did, but it was just...too much."

"Did you try to stop and breathe?"

"For a second," I said, although that wasn't quite true. I'd let the panic take hold and carry me back in the direction of my house before I'd even had time to try and break its spell. "I didn't do a very good job, though."

"It's tough. You've experienced a great deal of trauma, threats to your personal safety that most people couldn't even imagine. I know it's difficult to make yourself stay in the present in that kind of situation, but that's exactly what will get you through it. And it will just take practice."

"I know." Running my hands through my short hair, I grumbled, "But I'm tired of practicing."

"You took Jackson to the vet last month," she said. "That was a big deal. Good for you."

"Yeah." The vet had been a real challenge, that was for sure. I straightened slightly, trying to focus on my one real victory. The waiting room had been hell, but Dr. Edwards had actually made me feel comfortable. "The vet wasn't too bad."

"And you finally made it to the grocery store."

"I know. It was terrifying." Even behind my sunglasses, I had felt as though everyone in the store was looking at me and my dog, wondering why I needed him. Probably trying to remember everything they had read, all the gory details. Calling up our memories of my hostage videos, imagining what kinds of atrocities I'd experienced that they didn't know about.

"But you did it anyway."

"I had to," I admitted. "I needed the food."

"You did it," Dr. Nelson repeated. "That's something to celebrate."

"I guess so. I was a nervous wreck the whole time. You wouldn't believe how many people stopped to ask me about Jackson. I knew he was gorgeous when I got him, but I didn't anticipate the attention he would draw."

"Well, he's a pretty magnificent dog. I'm not surprised people would be curious about him." I couldn't disagree. "I sewed patches on his service vest that say Stop. Don't Touch. Service Dog, but to be honest, I'm not sure how well they work. People ask if they can pet him all the time."

"Think about it this way. When people are looking at Jackson, they're probably not paying much attention to you."

"I guess so." That was a good point and almost made me feel better. "But it means I have to interact with people. You know I hate that."

"It's good for you, though. It really is. And would you trade Jackson, if it meant you didn't have to deal with his admirers?"

"Of course not."

Dr. Nelson smiled. "So revel in it."

"I don't know about revelling, but I'll try."

"That's where practice comes in. As often as possible. So, back to the beach. When you set out, where does your mind go?"

I forced myself to remember how I felt yesterday, careful not to let myself slip back into the panic. I evaluated my feelings as objectively as I could, taking deep breaths as I explored them. "I feel...exposed." she nodded but kept silent, allowing me to expand on my initial observation. "Vulnerable. I feel danger. Like anyone could come at me from any direction, so I need to constantly be on guard. It's exhausting."

"Isn't Jackson trained to put himself between you and anyone who approaches?"

"Yes. And he does a good job. He's also trained to watch behind me and alert me to anyone who might be there."

"So maybe you don't need to be so on guard," Dr. Nelson said. "When you try this walk next time, I want you to focus on Jackson and his reactions. He's a pretty calm dog, right?"

"Yeah." I petted his head, eliciting a grumble that tugged my lips into a smile. Jackson's job was to be calm and watchful, and I needed to remember to rely on his training. "He's downright mellow."

"If Jackson is calm, there must not be any danger. Correct?"

I nodded thoughtfully. The service-dog institute had told me the same thing during my orientation training with Jackson. "I need to focus on Jackson and remind myself that if he thinks everything is cool, everything is cool."

"That's right." she gazed at my warmly. "You might also want to remember that nobody's likely to harass you with a giant Great Dane at your side."

That's why I had wanted him, wasn't it? I took another deep breath, steadying my resolve. A half mile wasn't too bad. And they didn't have to stay at the beach long.

"Okay," I said after a moment of silent preparation. "We'll try again this afternoon."