Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"I never conquered, rarely came. Tomorrow holds such better days. Days when I can still feel alive. When I can't wait to get outside." ♫ Blink 182 - Adam's song.
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Harlow 'Horny' Silver should've been my damn name because I was one horny ass motherfucker.
Horny for touch, horny for kissing, horny for a goddamn hug, I was practically drooling, itching, screaming, crying-and crawling on my knees for any and every scrape of affection I could get like a drug addict looking for their next fix.
And I had been for two whole weeks.
Why?
Because I was diagnosed with a fun little thing called C-PTSD.
Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was one big fucked up mental illness sandwich. Combining the cutesy, fun quirks from PTSD like, nightmares, flashbacks, disassociation, suicidal thoughts, severe paranoia and impulsivity, with a dash of BPD symptoms like interpersonal issues, self harm, feelings of emptiness, excessive guilt, abandonment issues, and mood swings that gave everyone around me whiplash and put them in a bad mood.
Yeah, I was a prize.
After breaking down with Cherry though and crying so hard in the middle of the road that I puked, I figured it was best to get checked out. So, even though I had to go alone and even though I balled my eyes out like a bitch baby on the way there out of pure fear, I went to the doctor.
I was put on mood stabilizers and anti-psychotics to lower my paranoia, anxiety and anger issues.
Which was probably why Niko came home a few days early.
"What in the hell is goin' on here!"
Being cuddle whores with Cherry on the floor of the bounce house, I was awoken from my half-slumber to the sound of Niko's voice that made my heart race and bounce in my chest. My head was in Cherry's neck, my arms were wrapped tightly around her but with my new medication making me entirely too affectionate, sleepy and horny for my liking, I only had myself to blame.
I didn't think Niko would see it that way, but I was glad he was back.
I'd called him & told him about my diagnosis just a few days previous, and he told me he was really proud of me for getting help, which made me feel good. I definitely felt like I was doing a little bit better for myself which was cool because I didn't think I could stand another birthday being miserable and mine was this upcoming Sunday.
I'm pretty surprised I made it to 22.
But I supposed I was lucky.
Not lucky enough to not have to go to therapy at such a young age, but lucky.
I wasn't even gonna go if I was honest, despite the fact that I told Niko I would. Not yet anyway. It was just too much too soon and after going through such a scary process with my psychiatrist, and getting grilled by her for hours, I'd decided I'd done enough mental evaluation for a while.
