Living to Loving

Chapter 12

Mom grabs my hand. "Gemma, stop."

I jerk away. "Whatever."

"So I've heard the PTSD symptoms are getting worse," Dr. Howard says gently.

I normally welcome his gentle tone and the way he genuinely cares, but not right now. All I want is to stop talking about this. Memories flood my head of my sister. Memories I don't want. Memories of the crash. Memories of the hours post to the crash. It's all there. The fear inside of me intensifies. I've been living like this for days. I hate it. No one told me that grief felt like fear.

"Yeah, I guess," I say. My hands shake. I suck in a breath and try to calm myself down.

"What insinuated it?" Dr. Howard asks Mom.

"A girl at school..." Mom begins.

I do my best to block her voice out as she speaks. That story is a trigger for me. If I hear it, my PTSD will come into play. And it's already enough to make Mom pull me out of school this week.

Bella rests her nose on my foot and looks up at me.

I reach down and stroke her. I love her. She's one of the only things keeping me from breaking.

"So let's try another therapist," Dr. Howard says. "And I'm going to prescribe some different medications to manage it." He looks at me. "Gemma, I want you to know it's okay to ask for help. In fact," he pulls out a piece of paper and scribbles something on it. He hands it to me. "If you ever need me, this iss my number. I'm one call away, Gemma. Remember that."
I nod incoherently.

"Let's try some new meds for her," Dr. Howard says. "Let's try cognitive behavior therapy and some more psychotherapy. Gemma, we'll get this under control."

"Right," I mutter, looking at my lap.

I follow Mom to the car. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely manage to get the door open. Anxiety builds inside me as I slip in the car. Dissociation starts, but Bella presse her nose into my leg and leans on me. I reach down and shove my hands in her fur. When the disconnected feeling stops I release her and get in the car. Memories flood my mind as I stare at the dashboard. So much fear. So much anxiety.

When we arrive at home I fling the door open and run to my room, Bella on my heels. I collapse on my bed, letting Bella curl up next to me and press her warm body to my stomach.

A warm feeling enters me and my nerves calm a little bit as I stroke Bella.

"Hey, Gemma?" Daniel asks, knocking on my open door.

Bella jumps off my lap and curls up on the floor.

"Yeah?" I ask tentatively.

"Can I come in?" Daniel asks.

I nod.

He walks in and sits on the edge of my bed. "I love you," he says.

"I love you too," I say automatically.

"How are you?" he asks.

I pull my knees to my chest. "Not great. They're going to try cognitive behavior therapy, psychotherapy and more medications."

"How many medications do you take right now?" Daniel asks.

"Three to keep it under control," I say. "They're adding another. An antidepressant. Like I didn't already have enough medication to take."

"Think it'll help?" Daniel asks.

I shrug. "I'm willing to try anything. I hate this. It hasn't been this bad since I was first diagnosed."

"It must suck," Daniel says.

I nod. "But Bella's helping." I reach down with my foot and rub her back. She lets out a whimper.

That's not right. I get off my bed and bend down next to her? "Bella?" I ask. I touch her paw and she snaps at me.

"That's not good, is it?" Daniel asks.

I shake my head. "She must be in pain. She's a service dog. She's trained not to do things like snapping. Mom!" I yell.

Mom comes running in a half a second later. One good thing about having PTSD? You basically have your mom on speed dial.

"What's wrong?" Mom asks.

"Something's wrong with Bella," I say.

Mom bends down next to me and reaches out to Bella. Bella lets out a whimper and snaps again when Mom touches her.

Mom sucks in a breath. "We need to get her to an Animal Emergency Center."

I get up and pat my leg. "Bella?"

Bella lets out a whimper and eases to her feet, limping in pain. My heart nearly breaks at the scene.

"Bella," I say gently. I touch her harness.

She lets out another whimper, but stands tall. She follows me to the car and I help her hop in. Daniel slides in after her. Bella lays on my lap with her head pressed into my stomach. But this time it's my turn to comfort her. I stroke her head gently. Bella's the only thing that's been steadfast in my life since Jade died. I can't lose her.

Until I did.

How was I supposed to function without Bella? She was the only thing holding me together. Even a few days without her... no. I don't want to think about it. Bella was my best friend. She was always there. I want her back. I want her back now. Thoughts run through my brain, swirling around.

Anger and frustration mixed with anxiety fills my head. I can't. It's too much. It would be so much better... I can't. I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this. My hands are shaking. I'm tired of trying to be okay. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of it all.

"Hey Gemma?" Mom asks, poking her head in my bedroom. "I'm taking Crystal and Micah to the store to get some things. Do you want to come?"

I drop my head. "No."

"Will you be okay by yourself?" Mom asks.

I give a silent nod.

"Okay," Mom says. Her tone is skeptical, but she leaves.

My hands are shaking. I can't do this. I have to end this. I can't.