"Are you sure that I don't make you nervous when I get closer to you?" he teased me. Each word he said he took a step closer to me. By now my heart was pounding so loudly that I thought he might be able to hear.
Being near him made my thoughts all...
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Depression. Depression is defined as a "mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness or loss of interest." It was also a very normal feeling and the fourth stage of grief. These things were explained by my therapist who assured me that this shall too pass and that it's okay to feel this way. However, for me, depression was not wanting to eat or do anything but curl down on the bed. Some lucky times I would fall asleep within a few minutes after aimlessly looking at the wall but those other times, it would be after hours that I would be able to sleep. Sleep also betrayed me sometimes by showing me the worst nightmares that would make me awake with a gasp and later tears. This was again explained to me by my therapist as a side effect of depression and the trauma of Aunt Anna's death. Speaking of my therapist, I got her after Mia's suggestion as she noticed me not getting better after a week had passed from the funeral; and by far the only thing she was able to help me was to collect my thoughts a bit.
"So Isabella, how did you sleep last night?" Sarah, my therapist asked me as she sat on the chair with her notebook. She adjusted her glasses and then focused her attention on me. She was in her late 40's and she was dressed in a bright pink dress with her hair in a ponytail.
I looked around the office, taking in everything, already more comfortable now than I had since my first session. She waited patiently for my answer, her eyes were focused on me. "It wasn't great," I answered.
"Another nightmare?" she asked. I made a sound of approval. "Would you please elaborate on what it was about?"
I finally let my eyes make contact with her as I replayed what I saw though my nightmares weren't vivid, the feelings that I would feel after them were more than vivid and real. Like last night, I dreamt that my parents were holding my hand as we were walking through the ocean, we had smiles on our faces and I was a child. But as we walked further, they would leave my hand and then I was drowning in the ocean but before I would be completely blacked out, a hand would drag me out of the water. I would gasp for air as Aunt Anna would hold my hand but now I was my current age and not a child anymore. I would be happy seeing her and then she would too, lose my hand, and then I would drown again. the water was so dark, my lungs screaming for air, my mouth open as a silent scream would escape yet it would reach no one. No one would come to save me and then I would wake up.
This wasn't the first time I had this particular dream yet every time, my reaction to it was pretty same or worse but never better.
"Why do you think that this particular dream keeps coming again?" She asked me, her expression neutral, devoid of any other emotion other than compassion and patience.
I fiddled with the loose thread of my top. "Because my mind hates me currently." I joked but my joke went flat as she sighed in disappointment. I knew the reason, it was an image of how I feel that everybody that I love eventually leaves me and I feel as if their absence would mean my life wasn't worthwhile. "Probably because everyone that I get close to or love eventually leaves me or hurts me." I finally explained it to her. She nodded along.
