So Dad and I were waiting outside the therapist office, because apparently Dad had contacts that let us skip the fucking waiting list.
"What's with your leg?"
I didn't even realise that my leg was bouncing like crazy until Dad pointed it out.
"Uh, I do that sometimes when I'm really anxious, though I don't realise that I do it unless someone tells me"
"Do you want to hold my hand Sweetheart?"
"But I don't want to break it Daddy"
"You won't break my hand Emmy, anyway even if you did break my hand, which you won't, it wouldn't be the most ridiculous reason why I broke a bone Sweetheart, ok"
"Ok"
So I put my hand on Dad's hand and then squeezed it real tight, because the anxiety that was coursing through my body had me in a near panic attack state.
"Baby, you need to slow down your breathing, ok"
"But I, I, I can't Dad"
"Breathe in, and breathe out, and again"
So I kept breathing in-sync with Dad, Dad was over exaggerating his breathing for me to follow, I don't know if he did it because he knew to or because he guessed to, but I appreciated it.