‘Carol,’ she said, her voice calm and quiet. ‘Why don’t you come inside and have a cup of tea with me?’
Carol looked up, her face haggard and her red-rimmed eyes empty. ‘I’ve failed,’ she said, struggling to her feet, staggering as her legs cramped under her.
Melissa held out an arm to steady her but Carol grabbed at the door jamb instead. She led her straight to her consultation room and Carol followed meekly, taking the chair that she gestured towards. ‘Tea,’ she said, going back to the reception area. She boiled water and dropped a couple of green tea bags into cups, aiming for speed rather than delicacy. She was back with Carol in a couple of minutes, handing her the drink. Melissa sat down opposite. ‘Why do you think you’ve failed?’
Carol stared into her cup. ‘Last night, I bullied someone. He wasn’t a good person. But that’s no excuse. Then I stood by while someone else threatened him with a knife. I did nothing to stop it. I colluded in it. The worst part is that I . . . ’ She sighed heavily. ‘I revelled in it. While it was happening, I enjoyed that sense of power, even when I knew it was wrong. I hated myself but it was like a drug. I couldn’t stop it.’
‘Did either of you physically hurt this person?’
Carol shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘“Not really”? What does that mean?’
Shamed, Carol muttered, ‘I pushed him. He fell over. But he wasn’t hurt, just scared. And then he . . . he caved in. But if he hadn’t . . . ’ Another sigh. ‘I think the other person would have hurt him and maybe I wouldn’t have stopped her. I was so hyped up.’
‘How did you feel? Physically, I mean?’
‘My heart was racing, my pulse was pounding. I felt almost sick with the surge of adrenaline.’
‘But you didn’t actually attack this man. You kept control of yourself, Carol.’
Carol shook her head. ‘No. I was so close to tipping over the edge and losing it.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘I was willing to. All this work I’ve been doing, all these exercises. I thought I was getting somewhere but at the first crisis, I fell to bits again.’ She put her tea down and grabbed her hair with both hands, covering her face, rocking in her chair.
Melissa waited till Carol dropped her hands to her lap again. ‘What did you do afterwards?’
Carol sniffed. ‘I was so disgusted with myself. I’ve always been someone who tried to do the right thing. Tried to behave decently, honestly. I despise bullies. I don’t think I abused my power when I was a police officer. I exercised power, I know I did, but I didn’t exploit it. But now? I’m a stranger to myself.’
‘What did you do afterwards?’
Carol stood up abruptly and walked to the window. With her back to Melissa, she said, ‘I was beside a beach. I ran through the sand dunes and walked towards the sea. It was a long way out, it must have been low tide. I felt drawn to the sea. I wanted to walk into the sea and just keep going till none of it mattered any more.’
‘I’m so glad you didn’t do that, Carol. Can you tell me what it was that stopped you?’
Carol gave a little snort. ‘The thing that always stops me. Duty. Obligation.’
‘Obligation to whom?’
‘Not to whom, to what.’ She turned back, her face twisted in a sardonic smile. ‘Justice. Making things right. See, I’d made a commitment I couldn’t keep if I was at the bottom of the sea. So I dragged myself back up the beach and drove here. To confess my failure to someone who would understand why I despise myself so completely right now.’
‘Please, sit down, Carol. It’s not good to move so restlessly when you need to find the calm space inside yourself.’
Carol threw herself into the chair like a sulky teenager. ‘I thought I was managing my PTSD, but it all went to shit at the first test.’
‘No, Carol. You’re not a failure. The fact that you are here and not at the bottom of the sea, not in police custody for beating someone up, not drunk in a gutter somewhere – all this tells me that you are the opposite of a failure. You are not in the same place as you were when you first arrived here. You have made progress, Carol. I know it doesn’t feel like it this morning, but you are getting better.’
‘But I’m not fit to be out in the world.’
‘That’s not true. And you are shifting from genuine remorse to self-pity, even in this short space of time. That’s not a healthy place for you to be, and I think you know that very well, Carol. What we’re going to do now is a series of exercises to ground you. To bring you back to where you want to be. To remind you of how that feels.’
And so Melissa began to lead Carol back through the process she had already taught her once. They were less than five minutes into the arm exercises when Carol collapsed to her knees on the floor and began sobbing, the abandoned weeping of a deserted child. Melissa knelt next to her and took her into her arms, holding her close but not tight. If she could make Carol feel safe through this catharsis, there was every chance that she’d see this as brief backsliding – two
