Page 9

I practically threw the door open before quickly flipping the sign to “occupied” and shutting myself inside.

I flicked on the oil diffuser resting on a small bookshelf on the lefthand wall, next to the only light sources in the room. A small lamp, right next to a pink salt lamp. I walked past the bean bags and kicked off my shoes to feel the soft rug underneath my toes. I bent down to the linen basket, digging out my preferred blanket that smelled like the oil diffuser, inhaling the eucalyptus and lavender scent as I held the material toward my face.

Wrapping myself up and remembering to set the thermostat for this room to sixty-nine degrees, I finally made my way toward the very back. Where the warm, muted lamp light barely made it. The dimness immediately felt like a weight off of my eyes.

A hammock hung in the corner, and I folded my body inside, letting the canvas support my weight.

I inhaled the scent of the blanket near my face again, focusing on the gentle sway of the hammock I settled in.

You’re safe.

You’re at work, and you’re safe.

No one is mad at you.

You’re in your head again.

I struggled to repeat those words in my mind, desperate to shake the last of this panic from my body, but realized I needed something else.

“Hey Siri,” I gently called from my swing. The gentle beep of the speaker let me know the device was listening, “Play Jacqueline’s Playlist.”

“…Playing Jacqueline’s Playlist,” Siri responded. A second later, instrumental music gently filled the room. The low volume made the music a calm sound. Enough to drown out my thoughts, but not loud enough to overstimulate me again. It was a playlist designed specifically to bring me down to earth. It wasn’t music I generally reached for on my own, it was music I only listened to specifically for these moments.

What I normally preferred to listen to would have been too much right now.

I hadn’t needed to use this room in a long time. The last time I used it was when I learned that Leo Turner was accepting the position of Chief Technology Officer.

That was about five months ago.

Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.

I ground my teeth together and exhaled through my nose instead.

You’re safe, Jacqueline.

No one is upset.

You’re freaking out over nothing.

You did nothing wrong.

Though the words were true, my body couldn’t comprehend them. I pulled my phone out and set a fifteen-minute timer, another tactic Mariam gave me when I first started seeing her.

Having a hard and fast stop time for my meltdowns helped me feel more in control. I would allow my body to feel what it needed to feel for fifteen minutes, and then when the timer buzzed against my stomach, I would force myself to get it together to make it through the rest of the workday.

Then I could go home and dress down and cry.

Crying is good, Mariam told me,Crying is your body’s natural way to help relieve all the extra cortisol in your brain. Crying isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t make you weak. It’s what your body is designed to do to help you regulate your emotions.

Which was cool to know and all, but crying made my eyes puffy, my nose run, and my skin flushed. It wasn’t something I could do quickly in the middle of my workday without causing concern.

So this fifteen-minute timer would have to do. I let my body shake, my teeth grind, and my fists clench. I soaked in the herbal smells and sound of the calming music, allowing my eyes to open and take in the dim, quiet, calm space around me.

I focused on the back-and-forth, gentle swing of the hammock that cocooned me.

Deep breaths, Jacqueline.

Just fifteen minutes of this, and then I could make it through the day.