Knowing there’s nothing I can do right this moment, I make my way back into the bathroom to take my medications. One for my anxiety and one for my depression. More than half the time I forget to take my meds to begin with. It’s probably why I’m not doing as good as I could be. I know the meds are meant to help me get back to baseline, but sometimes even taking them feels like such a huge undertaking.
I know people that have never experienced depression would never understand, but fuck if depression doesn’t make the simplest tasks feel impossible. There’s just never any energy to do anything. I can’t even say how many times I’ve just let the dishes pile up because the thought of doing dishes felt like such an impossible task. Rationally, we know these tasks are simple, but our brains make it out to be so much harder than it actually is. Throw a little anxiety into the mix, and you have one fucked up brain because the anxiety side is constantly worrying aboutall the things that need to be done, while the depression is likeno, we have no energy to do that. It’s a vicious cycle.
My phone goes off again, signaling a text message. Unlocking my phone, I open it to see a message from Melody. I debate telling her about the daisy but think better of it. Knowing Melody and the experience she had with her own stalker, she would call the cops, and that’s the last thing I want. I have to find the right moment to tell her.
Melody
Hey girl, wanna go out tonight?
Me
Hmmm, where are you thinking?
Melody
I was thinking I could take you out to Club LAX. I know you’ve never been, but my brother-in-law owns it, and we’ll get a bunch of free drinks.
On one hand, I want to say yes, but the other side wants to just stay home, curled up in bed with a good book. Another part of me wants to escape this apartment, no longer feeling safe in my own home. I don’t respond immediately, contemplating the decision of staying in my cozy bed or venturing out for a good time with my best friend and temporarily forgetting my problems. Her and I normally take trips downtown or to the bookstore—I’ve never really been one for the club scene. I don’t get to think on it much longer before I get another text from Melody.
Melody
Pleeeaaassseee, Dani? I haven’t seen you in forever.
I know I’ll probably regret this later, but fuck it.
Me
Fine, fine, fine. I’ll go out with you.
On one condition though.
Melody
Anything! You name it.
Me
LOL Anything, huh? Dangerous.
Melody
OK, for real though. What’s your condition?
Me
You have to come over and help me pick out what to wear.
Melody
Abso-fucking-lutely. I’ll be there around seven tonight.
Me
See you then!
I spend the rest of my day curled up on the couch, getting in some much needed reading time. I’ve always been a romance girly, but ever since my trauma, I’ve found dark romance to be equally eroticandhealing. I was once ashamed of my sexuality after the numerous rapes I endured at the hands of Anthony Romani, but through therapy I learned every woman handles their trauma differently. Some go years before they can engagein sex again. Myself? I dove right back in, desperate to feel back in control. My therapist, Jackie, helped me realize this was a normal response. I’ve always been careful with the men I sleep with, but so far, I haven’t had any bad experiences, minus Derek and his controlling tendencies.
I end up taking numerous breaks from my book, unable to stop thinking about a certain pair of blue eyes. I remember when I was rescued, the blue-eyed soldier stooped down to my spot on the cot, grabbing my chin and turning my face to look at him. I was a goner the moment I saw his eyes, tumbling headfirst into their depths. His team cut off my chains as he held my gaze, never once straying to take in my naked body.
