“Yeah. We spent a few days just hanging out in Tahiti. I wasn’t watching myself talk to her. I was talking to her. And it went on for all the days we were together. I didn’t have any nightmares or sleep problems either.”

“You were off your meds?”

“Had been since they ran out—maybe six months?” Linda shrugged. “I started sleeping badly again but it wasn’t bad enough to try to get more.”

“I’d say you felt safe with Marissa. But not in a purely platonic way?”

“No, I wanted . . . she’s really engaging. With this inner humor and zest and I kept thinking about what it would be like to be with her. I was afraid I’d freak her out, though. I didn’t want to tell her about my mother and . . . that stuff. And I didn’t want to just . . .” Linda frowned.

“Go to bed with her and dissociate?”

“I didn’t want to just do her, yeah. The last night I thought well, okay, it would turn out like all the other times I’d tried but at least I could give her something she wanted because she did want me to touch her. At least we could have that memory. I turned off the lights because sometimes I don’t go away as quickly.”

Dr. Kirkland nodded and Linda relaxed even more. Whether she recalled all the details of Linda’s case file from three years ago or not, Dr. Kirkland seemed to be catching up rapidly. “And how was it?”

With a feeling of profound relief, Linda said, “I didn’t go away at all. Even when . . . she made love to me. I stayed. I felt connected to my body the whole time.”

Dr. Kirkland sat back in her chair with a blinding smile. “That’s absolutely fantastic. A major breakthrough. And how did that feel?”

Linda stuck her tongue out. “How do you think it felt?”

“You’re supposed to tell me, remember?”

Shifting in her seat so she could tuck one leg under her, Linda answered, “It felt great. I realized what I’d been missing.”

After making another note on the left, Dr. Kirkland asked, “So, why are you here?”

“Because she had to go home. I had a ticket to run away more. And on the flight I took there was this woman who flirted with me and I did all the things I’ve always done.”

“One great sexual experience doesn’t undo the habits and security behavior of two decades, Linda. Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“It was just . . .” She shrugged. “One of those random things. She wasn’t even gay—not that she was telling herself anyway. So we were in the airport and starting to get to it. I got clinical— remember? You pointed out how when I don’t feel safe I get very clinical as the first step to dissociating?” After the other woman nodded, Linda continued, “I noticed what was going on all around us, if other people would figure out what we were doing, things like that.”