Step one. The glass doors are heavier than they looked. Age and disuse likely making them sticky. The hinges could use some attention. The freezing weather not doing them any favors either. The entry is at least warmish. The tile clean but discolored. The building is half abandoned. Through another set of doors at the end of the lobby, I can see what used to be a bank in another life. The elevators are between me and the derelict bank. 

 Step two. The elevator definitely looks suspicious. But the idea of walking up three flights of emergency use stairs isn't really appealing either. I have my cell phone gripped in hand and step through the steel doors and press three. The carpeted floors are a dizzying vintage kaleidoscope of orange, green, and brown. The bright new LED lights ensuring you could see every nook and cranny. 

 Step three. The building houses a half dozen offices. It looks like mostly non-profits and odds and ends. Thankfully, it's not large and the directions I'd been given on the phone were easy enough to follow. The young guy at the front desk smiled brightly and checked his computer. There was a ticking noise coming from somewhere. Sitting and waiting is the worst part. My phone still being held like a lifeline in my hand was starting to warm. Not sure what I was planning to do with it. This wasn't exactly a situation that my phone was going to come in handy for. The ticking kept up a steady backing track. I looked around. The clock was digital. No ticking there. No desk clock that I could see either. The TV in the corner was muted but showing PBS re-runs. Educational at least. 

 Step four. "Thomas?" a head poked around the doorway. I looked up. The woman was tall and lanky with a friendly smile. I can still hear the ticking. 

  "Yes, that's me. Nice to meet you." I stood and awkwardly glanced around. There was no one else in the lobby. 

 "I'm Catherine. Hopefully you found your way in ok? The building has an odd layout I'm afraid and we're scattered all over the back half of it." She turned and headed back out into the hall. I followed her out and counted each step I took. It's a terrible habit but it distracts and calms me. The hall this direction is carpeted. Thankfully not in the same style as the elevator. This one is industrial gray/brown. Something that doesn't show dirt and age. A sturdy choice. "We'll be meeting in my office. So whenever you come in, just check in like today and I'll come get you." She turned to glance at me as we walked. Well, she walked. I trudged and counted. If I take smaller steps I can count more of them. 

  I looked up when she turned a corner. The carpet continued. "My office is at the end of this hall." There were two other doors before hers. She stopped and looked me right in the eye. "What number are you on?"

 "I'm sorry?" I'm sure my eyes were wide and startled. 

 She smiled reassuringly and gestured for me to keep following her. "I can hear you whispering something. Counting is a common coping tool for folks to lean into." 

  I paused before looking down the hall. "This is the first time I've asked for help. It's taking everything I have to keep walking down this hallway."

  Catherine stopped with me and nodded. "The first time is sometimes the hardest. It takes a strong person to look at themselves and realize that they need someone to throw them a life preserver to get them out of the current they're stuck in. So, take as many baby steps as you need to today to make it down the hall to that door. " She walked down to her door and opened it. "Once we get to know each other, we can work on putting more tools in your toolbox so that you don't feel like your only equipped with one spatula."