I can hear her swallowing, then she moves. She presses down but stops and mutters complaints. I don’t say anything. I give her a chance to figure it out, to remember.
“Elbow,” she whispers. I go to ask what she means, but her arm shifts, and now her elbow presses into my neck, cutting off my breathing.
“Good,” I say, forcing the words out as it becomes harder to breathe. “Did anything else happen? Anything get said? Then we’re sure this is exactly what is triggering you?” I ask.
She’s quiet, and I give her a moment before speaking again. “Okay, let’s just put this down as a trigger. I’ll write with it, that it’s the moment you fell unconscious, your last memory, and that you felt powerless, weak, and disgusting.”
We need to move on. I feel her body go rigid against mine, and I turn qui
