What's wrong with me?

𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳. 

 𝙰 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚠𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 ******** ***. 𝙱𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜, 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑. 

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚒 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟾 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜. 

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝟷𝟿 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎.

S E S S I O N  6

After the session, Lindsey became even more distant. She seemed to be intentionally keeping herself away from me. Lindsey's behavior was more guarded as if she was trying to put as much space between us as possible. I was scared too, and so I let it be, giving her the distance she needed.

Night fell, and once again, I couldn't sleep. I found myself in the living room, a book in hand, trying to distract myself from the thoughts and fears that refused to leave me alone. The silence was deafening. Every creak and groan of the old wooden floors echo loudly in the silence.

I tried to lose myself in the book, but my mind kept drifting back to Lindsey. The fear and hatred in her eyes, the raw emotion that she showed—it all haunted me. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking, what she was hiding. 

Just as I was starting to feel like I might be able to focus, I heard it. My body hair stood up, hearing it. 

The sound of footsteps running in the hallway. 

The floor was wooden, and the noise echoed loudly, the rhythmic thud breaking the silence.

I froze, the book slipping from my hands and falling to the floor with a dull thud. I stared at it, completely shaken. I could hear my heartbeat as I listened, trying to pinpoint where thefootsteps were coming from. They seemed to be moving, passing by the living room and continuing down the hall.

I gulped, forcing myself to move. I got up and crept towards the hallway, my bare feet silent on the wooden floor. The footsteps continued, but no matter how quickly I moved, they always seemed to stay just out of reach, just around the next corner. It was as if whoever was running knew exactly where I was and was deliberately avoiding me.

I began breathing heavily, I didn't know where to look. My breath came in quick, shallow gasps as I tried to find the source of the noise. 

I called out, my voice trembling. "Lindsey? Is that you?"

There was no answer, only the sound of footsteps. My chest tightened. I realized that I had to find Lindsey. I needed to know if she's in her room, that this wasn't some new manifestation of the horrors she had endured.

I rushed towards her room. The hallway seemed longer and darker. I reached her door and flung it open, catching my breath as I scanned the room.

She was there, sitting on her bed, her eyes wide with terror. The moment she saw me, she let out a small, frightened cry and backed away, her hands trembling.

"L-Lindsey, it's me," I said softly, stepping into the room. "It's okay, you're safe."

But she didn't seem to hear me. Her eyes were filled with fear, darting around the room as if expecting something to jump out at her. I realized with a sinking feeling that my sudden entrance had only made things worse, triggering her trauma instead of calming her.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, trying to keep my voice soothing. "I didn't mean to scare you. I heard footsteps and thought you might be in trouble."

Lindsey didn't respond. She just continued to stare at me, her body tense and her eyes filled with a mix of fear and confusion. 

I took a step closer, my hands held up in a gesture of peace. "Lindsey, please," I pleaded. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

She pushed me away, her movements frantic and desperate. She didn't want my comfort, she wanted to be left alone.

"Lindsey, it's okay," I tried again, my voice breaking. "You're safe here. I won't let anything happen to you."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. My face is full of panic.

At that moment, I realized the depth of her trauma. The fear and hatred I had seen in her eyes during our session were just the tip of the iceberg. There was so much pain buried inside her, pain that I couldn't even begin to understand.

"Lindsey, I'm so sorry," I whispered, tears of my own blurring my vision. "I don't know what to do."

She continued to push me away. I stepped back, giving her the space she so desperately needed. I stood by the door, biting my lower lip.

I glanced at her before closing the door gently behind me. I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

What's wrong with me?

⌖