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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

It's hard to breathe in and out with so much stress. But with help, you could manage anything.

Azealia is a young adult with childhood trauma, she goes and gets therapy on daily basis, but with life going around her, and others not seeming to care that their actions hurt her, it leads her to have a breakdown. Stoping her visits to therapy sessions and even stopped going outside and socializing with others. The only people she sees are her brother and occasionally her mother. That's only because they want her to get out, and stop all her isolation.


Submitted: November 12, 2021

© Copyright 2021 dreyoung4. All rights reserved.

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My surroundings tune out. Only The voice of her's leading me through.

"Can you describe what you see?" She inquires when my head reclines on the couch, eyelids closed and vision blacked out by their closure.

"Okay, I see..." "...A...darkroom," I began nervously.

"What's going on in the darkroom? Who's in the darkroom... Is it possible for you to see in that darkened room?" She queried in a calm, methodical manner.

In frustration, I tighten my lids, my eyes replaying the events of the day. In annoyance, I shake my head and prop up.

"This isn't going to work." I snap, my gaze fixed on my therapist. She looks down at my hands, seeing them shake uncontrollably, Then looks at me worriedly and says.

"I believe it is." She sighs and rests her palm on my trembling hands. I nudge my head again, a little shaken.

"I don't think I can," "I can't revisit that experience." I reason. She nods her head in understanding. then reaches for me and runs a rudding hand along my shoulder.

I sit there staring at her, and she stares back at me reassuringly.

"It's difficult, I understand. Reliving that moment is impossible, so difficult that you can't bring yourself to do it "... "But you wouldn't have to force yourself to do it with me. At the very least, alone. Two is preferable to one. We can do more if we work at it together." She has a gentle, bright smile.

"However, if you are not prepared, it will be OK," she says. "I'm available whenever you're ready." In the way she assures me of this, she sounds enticing.

And the truth is Im not ready. If anything I can't bring myself to even attempt to be ready. And it's nice seeing her know that.

"Well..." "I should go," I say. Getting up. She looks at me with that look that I'm now thinking signify's her. Then nods.

"Let me know whenever you're ready." She said. I smile and give her a nod of my own.

"Thank you." Then I walk out.

Fri, November 12th, 2021 5:37pm

Autumn Imara

Hi, wow... I can really relate to this, I am a survivor of childhood trauma myself. Thanks for writing this!

Fri, November 12th, 2021 6:43pm

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