Nana Lilith snuggled in beside me and Lolly on the couch, a print-out in her hands. I turned my head away, shutting my eyes. Nana was sneaky, though, and read it to me like I was a little kid again. It was nice. Relaxing and nice. Lolly liked being read to too.

According to the article my amygdala didn’t like feeling threatened, so when it did it went nuts. ‘Did you take that bit in, darling?’ Nana asked.

‘Yeah. No good trying to argue with your amygdala. It doesn’t listen.’ I gave a bit of a laugh. It sounded just like Mrs Nagel! She wasn’t calm and rational either, and she totally didn’t listen to reason.

There was more – all about finding a safe place. I stood up. ‘Thanks, Nana. Okay to take Lolly for a walk?’

I had to escape. Obviously that so-called expert hadn’t had to live in a place where nothing was safe. But Dr James Moran was okay. I almost felt safe in his office.

Lolly and I walked around the neighbourhood. People stop and chat when you go walking with a dog. It was nice, even when they mocked my Kiwi accent.

When I got back, Grandy and Nana Lilith gave me searching looks – it felt like they were scanning my brain to see what my amygdala was up to. I didn’t mind; well, not too much. I figured they were entitled to be a bit on the hyper-alert side. Ha! Another quake term to throw around.

I curled up again on the sofa next to Lolly. ‘That shrink – he looks like he’s escaped from the bush, but he’s okay. I don’t even mind going back for another session.’

Which was just as well because Nana Lilith had twisted his arm to book me a few more appointments.

He was pretty keen on the safe place thing too. Yeah, I should have worked that out. He’d told me to read all about it, after all.

It turned out that Lolly was my safe place. I just had to keep the image in my head of her being a warm weight against my back in the night, of how she liked to cuddle up to me on the sofa and how she went berserk with glee if I said walk.

Dr James Moran gave me two good girls and told me to practise going back to those happy, safe feelings until they were good and solid in my head. ‘Whenever there’s a trigger, like another quake or hearing a train or a plane, get your mind to take you to Lolly and the feelings around her. And don’t beat yourself up if you’re not always a hundred per cent successful. You’ll get better with practice.’

He made me practise deep breathing too. Breathe in, hold for three seconds, breathe out slowly. He reckoned that would haul my amygdala back by its toenails whenever it decided to take off into the stratosphere.

I knew I’d get plenty of chances to practise when I went back to Christchurch – the aftershocks were still frequent and some of them were severe. Joanne moaned about them every time she messaged me. I passed the news on to Katie and Shona, but one of Katie’s answers surprised me. Nelson’s cool. Fab beaches. But I’d rather be in Christchurch. My city is changing and I’m not there to see what’s happening.

They wanted to know how I was doing. I’m getting counselling!! Seems to be helping.

I got the surprise of my life – Matt messaged. Sent u awesome book.

Me: You’ve read an actual book???

Matt: Yep. X2

Me: It’s about rugby, right?

Matt: Yes and no. Read it.

It arrived three days later. I held the parcel for a few seconds before I even attempted opening it. I so didn’t want to read a rugby book. Nana handed me a pair of scissors. A note written in Matt’s scrawl fell out. JK best winger ever. Read it.

What? The book was All Blacks Don’t Cry, by John Kirwan.

I gaped at it and just shook my head. Matt had to have lost a marble or two. Grandy picked it up. ‘I’ve been wanting to read this. Great bloke, JK. He’s done a good thing in talking about depression.’

The light went on in my head, along with a big fat question: was Matt finding life not so sweet too?

I read the book. Then I read it again.

Me: Thanx.

Matt: When you back? Da gang going to gap-fill where my house used to be.

Me: Dunno. When you starting?

Matt: Waiting for u. That bossy little Imelda. And leo henry millie jess etc etc

Me: (typing with grin on face) Soon. Be back soon.

We looked after Lolly for a week and a bit. When her ma and pa got home she was all over them. I felt betrayed and abandoned until she ran to sit beside me where I was curled up in a chair. There wasn’t really room for me and a Doberman, but she made it work by taking over the whole of my lap.

‘Come back and visit anytime,’ they said, but I knew we wouldn’t. The Sunshine Coast was quite a way from Lolly’s house.

I stayed with my grandparents in their eighth-floor apartment for another week. I got lots of practise at amygdala hijack control every time I got in the lift or a truck went past when we were in town. Mostly it worked.

My friends asked what I was up to. Shopping? Swimming? Theme parks?

Nah. Am facing down the demons, doing deep breathing and pretending I’ve got a Doberman.

Joanne and Freya wrote news about school and messages flew around about gap-filling where Matt’s house used to be. Henry wanted a swimming pool. Leo wanted a basketball hoop. Imelda wanted a family of gnomes. Millie: Yes to gnomes. Maybe to hoop. Ha ha to pool. Matt wants orange flowers. Says they’ll keep his mother away. Go figure!!

There were things to look forward to. It was time to go back.