In … Out … In … Out … In …. Out. Slowly and surely.
I force myself to focus on the ceiling light above me and keep going, knowing it helps.
In … Out … In … Out … In … That’s right, nice and steady.
I’m not in Chicago anymore; it’s okay now. I’m in control of this. I regulate my breathing to match my count, bringing myself down from near hysterics, drying my eyes.
In … Out … In … Out … Slower, bring it down a notch.
I’ve overcome this a million times, and I can do it again. I can fix this. I’m better than this.
In … Out … In … Out. Take deep breaths in … It’s getting easier.
In … Out … In … Out. Calmer, smoother breathing.
The tidal wave subsides slowly and the blackness fades out. My lungs move more easily, the heaviness lifting, and I inhale deeply.
In … Out … In … Out.
Like a chant.
I’m in control. I’m not a child anymore. Ray is not here to hurt me.