I exhale. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s a good start. Would you like to share?”
I sit quietly, unsure that I’m ready for this.
“Sometimes it’s best to start at the edge of the lake, not jump directly into the middle. So maybe let’s start with one small thing. Can you do that?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “Sure. One small thing.”
“Why did you finally decide it was time to walk in those doors? Why did you sit down? Why now?”
I stare down at my bandaged hand. “It started last week. I crossed a line I’ve never crossed before.”
She studies me for a long moment, then smiles faintly. “Hmmm, what line was that?”
“I hit someone.” I let out a breath.
“Why?” she asks gently.
“To protect someone. My instincts told me they were dangerous… so I reacted.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t judge. Just nods slowly, like she’s filing the information into a drawer she’ll come back to later.
“And how did that make you feel afterward?”
I frown. “Relieved. And… not. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“Because you’re not a violent man?” she says.
I glance up at her. “No.”
Silence settles between us.
She leans back slightly in her chair. “When your body reacts before your mind can catch up, that’s usually not about the moment you’re in. That’s about the moments you’ve survived.”
I look down.
“You said you can’t sleep. You said your mind won’t shut off. You said you feel angry and lost,” she says. “Those aren’t random symptoms. That’s a nervous system that thinks the world isn’t safe anymore.”
I stare at my hands.
“And when someone like that sees a threat,” she adds softly, “their body doesn’t ask permission.”
I swallow.
“Let me ask you something,” she says. “When you were protecting that person… did it feel familiar?”
The word lands wrong in my chest. “I don’t know,” I say, which is a lie. Or maybe not. I honestly don’t know yet.
She nods, accepting it anyway. “That’s okay. We’re not here to solve everything today.”
She glances at the clock on the wall, then back at me.
“Maybe whatever you’re running from in your sleep… whatever your mind keeps dragging you back to… your body is still living there.”
She folds her hands. “And until you figure out why, it’s going to keep pulling the fire alarm every time something even smells like danger.”
I let out a slow breath.
