I felt a pang of guilt at her words. She was right, of course. I couldn't keep pushing her away, no matter how much I wanted to protect her from the darkness inside me. "I...I'll think about it," I said, looking up to meet her gaze.
"That's all I ask," she said, giving my hand a squeeze. "Just promise me you won't give up on yourself."
I nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought. Maybe there was a way to face my demons and come out the other side
I left the coffee shop, assuring my girlfriend that I would be fine. As I walked the familiar route to my apartment, my mind was plagued with thoughts of the other world that awaited me when I slept. I couldn't afford to let my guard down and fall asleep, for fear of never waking up.
I entered my dingy apartment, and the sight of the unkempt space only added to my restlessness. To keep myself busy and stave off the inevitable exhaustion, I began to clean up the cluttered room. I picked up discarded clothes and threw out empty food containers, trying to create some semblance of order in the chaos.
Despite my efforts, the grime and filth seemed to persist, taunting me with its refusal to disappear entirely. My mind wandered to the other world again, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was better than the squalor of my own living space.
I continued to clean and organize, the physical exertion keeping my mind occupied and my body awake. The hours passed slowly, but I remained steadfast in my determination to stay awake until nightfall.
As the sun began to set, I finally allowed myself to rest, but only briefly. I had to stay vigilant throughout the night, for fear of slipping into the other world and never returning.
The darkness enveloped my apartment, and I waited, my senses heightened and my body on high alert. Every creak and rustle in the silence made me jump, but I refused to let my guard down.
It was a long, grueling night, but I emerged from it unscathed. As the morning sun crept into my apartment, I allowed myself a moment of relief, knowing that I had survived another day without succumbing to the dangers of the other world
I spent the rest of the day in bed, trying to get some rest, but the nightmare kept recurring in my head. The woman without a face, the devil with the violin, the pain in my neck-it was all too palpable to ignore. I knew I had to do something about it. I could not continue to live like this, with fear of sleep and dread of what awaited me in the darkness. I decided to take my girlfriend's advice and go with her to a psychiatrist, hoping they could help me understand the dream and find a way to overcome it.
As I stepped into the psychiatrist's office with my girlfriend, I felt a wave of unease wash over me. It had been years since my last visit to a mental health professional, and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. The waiting room was quiet, and I couldn't help but fidget in my seat, my hands shaking and my legs bouncing up and down.
My girlfriend squeezed my hand gently, a small gesture that offered a surprising amount of comfort. "It's going to be okay," she said softly.
The receptionist called my name, and I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest. The psychiatrist was a kind-looking man with warm eyes and a reassuring smile. He ushered me into his office and asked me to take a seat.
"What brings you in today?" he asked, his voice calm and soothing.
I took a deep breath and began to tell him about my problems. I spoke of the nightmares that plagued me every night, the hallucinations that made me question what was real and what wasn't, and the strange wounds that would appear on my body with no apparent cause. I pulled up my sleeve and showed him the deep, angry bite mark on my neck.
The doctor listened intently, nodding occasionally and taking notes. When I finished, he leaned back in his chair and regarded me thoughtfully. "I see," he said, "it sounds like you've been through a lot. I think what you're experiencing is just a hallucination, but we can help you manage it."
He prescribed me a sedative to help me sleep, and advised me to seek therapy to address any underlying trauma that may be exacerbating my symptoms. As I was about to leave, he pulled my girlfriend aside and spoke to her in a hushed tone.
"Listen, I don't want to alarm you," he said, "but Tally may be at risk of harming himself or others. I suggest you keep a close eye on him and monitor any unusual behavior."
My girlfriend looked at me with concern etched on her face, and I could tell she was taking the doctor's words to heart.
"Is there anything we can do to help him?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
The doctor smiled sympathetically. "At this point, the best thing you can do is to keep an eye on him and make sure he takes his medication. But if you notice any concerning behavior, don't hesitate to contact me."
As we left the office, my girlfriend kept a tight grip on my hand, and I couldn't shake the feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.
As we made our way back, my girlfriend grasped onto my hand tightly, reluctant to let go. Upon arriving at my apartment, I tried to reassure her that I would be fine with my medication, but she refused to budge. Suddenly, she hugged me tightly and expressed her fear of leaving me alone.
Despite my efforts to convince her, she insisted on staying with me, so I allowed her into my apartment. The space remained untouched and as clean as it was in the morning. My significant other settled onto the sofa in the living room, while I offered her something to eat or drink. She declined and began speaking to me:
"You should heed the doctor's advice and try not to overthink things," she said softly. "These illusions are simply a manifestation of your anxiety."
I nodded and sat down next to her on the sofa, holding her hand in mine. "I know you're concerned about me, but I assure you I'm doing everything I can to get better."
Tears formed in her eyes as she gazed at me. "I just don't want to lose you," she whispered.
I drew her close to me, relishing the warmth of her body against mine. "You won't lose me," I comforted her. "I'll always be here for you."
We sat in silence for a while until my girlfriend broke the stillness with a question, "Do you recall the first time we met?"
I looked at her, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Of course, how could I forget?"
She smiled tenderly, "That was the moment I knew I wanted to be with you. You were so compassionate and kind towards that elderly lady struggling with her groceries."
I chuckled at the memory, "I was simply doing what anyone should do."
"No, it was different," she said, leaning into me. "It was as if you could feel her pain and wanted to help her in any way possible. That's the kind of person you are."
I blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed by her words. "Well, I'm grateful I met you on that day."
She entwined her fingers with mine, "Me too. And I won't leave your side until I'm sure you're feeling better."
Her words warmed my heart, and I knew that I had someone special in my life. We sat there, lost in our thoughts and the solace of each other's company
chapter 1
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