There's still an advisory warning for sensitive content in this chapter, as it continues in from the last one. Mentions of abuse will occur.
~Xander~
"It doesn't happen that often, just a few times a year. I'll be okay." I was trying to get Dr.Andoh to listen to me.
Dr. Andoh was paging through his notes. "The first time you visited me was three years ago. Where you explained you had feelings of helplessness and isolation within your relationship. You didn't say were being abused but you only ever wore long sleeve turtle necks even though it was summer. You seemed like you were in pain. You stopped coming after three sessions, we tried to contact you but that's when we realized you left a fake number and address." he looked up from his notes, eyes boring into me. "We're all vampires here, Xander. You have to understand that we value privacy. You can be honest here, I certainly won't judge you."
Dr. Adrien Andoh was one of the best psychiatrist therapists in the vampire world based not too far outside of Huntington city. He was also one of the first openly trans men in the vampire world, not to mention he was black and gay like me. But opening up to people wasn't easy, even if they were more like me than not.
I filled him in in short, quiet sentences about how Corey and I had broken up, about a year after I'd had my third and last session with him. "I don't know what happened. One day I was taking it, and the next day, it was too much. He liked French toast on Mondays, but I'd gotten the wrong brand of eggs over the weekend. He could apparently taste the difference." My heart squeezed in my chest at the memory. "So, I went to get the right eggs from the grocery store and I just— never went back. He called, texted, showed up at my apartment, but I just told him I couldn't be his punching bag or his blow up doll and I blocked his number. He didn't bother me a lot after that." I didn't talk about how he'd dumped whatever I left at his place on the curb of my apartment building like everything was trash. Or, the threatening and meticulous handwritten letters he sent to me via snail mail. Especially not the fact that every week for a year he would send me terrible letters in his beautiful handwriting. Some of them would be sweet, talking about how he missed me, missed my body. And then others wouldn't be so sweet and he would meticulously list everything that was wrong with me and how I wasted two years of his life.
I didn't even know why I had read them, it was like he had some strange hold over me. I still had all the letters at home, sitting untouched in my storage room.
But, Dr. Andoh was still talking, "You should be proud of yourself for getting out of an abusive situation in a safe and healthy way. You left your abuser and were able to get away. That's what I'm hearing here, Xander. You don't need to sound so ashamed." His voice was warm, and paternal. It just made me feel worse.
"Everything is going wrong." I blurted our, "I keep thinking that I'm awful and ugly. I never used to have thoughts like this. I used to be normal. I try to write music to cheer me up but everything sounds like the soundtrack of a funeral. Achilles' family treats him differently after he came out and I just feel like it's all my fault. And my chest just feels so heavy all the time." I sighed, feeling like I was going to start crying again. All I did was cry.
"Do you really feel like your partner's family are mistreating him because of you?"
"Well," I paused. "They're not really into him dating a man."
"So, it's not something in your control. It's not really about you, it's more about their intolerance. This isn't your fault either. I don't think they'd like any man he was dating. But, how often you blame yourself is concerning. Did your last partner frequently blame you for things?"
"Yeah." I chewed on my lower lip. "Do you think this will pass in a couple days? It's like a wave most of the time. The thoughts are always there and then it gets overwhelming and I end up like this. Achilles says we're mates, but I don't know. There are so many things wrong with me, he shouldn't have to put up with someone like me. Everything just got worse after Achilles came out even though I thought they would get better."
Dr. Andoh was nodding and taking notes, "How long have you been feeling this way?"
"Ever since the last person I was with—" I still wouldn't say Corey's name. "I felt like everything was my fault. Even after we broke up, I still felt like that. I don't know why this feeling won't go away. It only gets hard a few times a year. I just push on. It ends up okay in the end."
"I don't think it always will, Xander." Dr. Andoh said quietly, looking up and settling his dark eyes on me. "Based on our last meetings and now, I think it's safe to diagnose you. But, I have to ask you to have an open mind. I'll work with you on this to help you to the best of my abilities."
I toyed with the necklace around my neck, growing apprehensive, "You're acting like I have cancer. We can't even get cancer."
"We can still be mentally ill, we can still become traumatized. Our brains aren't that different from humans, or shifters." Dr. Andoh frowned, running his fingers through his beard, voice growing wistful. "I'll be honest with you Xander, it's difficult to admit when we have problems. But, we owe it to ourselves to do the best with what we have." He hesitated, and shifted on the couch, clasping his hands together and putting down his notepad. "I'm fairly confident in saying you have C-PTSD. It's a complex form of post traumatic stress disorder. It's normally seen in adults when they've been subjected to a long term traumatic situation consisting of either emotional, physical, or sexual abuse. Kidnapping victims, slaves, children who grow up in abusive homes and victims of intimate partner violence are most likely to develop this disorder."
I bit the inside of my cheek, staring hard at the fireplace and the cluster of pokers beside it. I was shaking my head. No. "I do not have that."
"Xander—"
I clutched my head, pushing my hands through my hair, forgetting I'd put it in a bun and there was nothing to run my fingers through. "I just need to drink more blood, some of that new synthetic stuff. I'll start exercising. I'll stop ignoring texts and calls when people try to communicate with me. I'll— forget him. I'll forget everything. I'll just start acting normal again so I can be normal."
Dr. Andoh got up slowly, sitting down beside me on the couch. His voice was still soft, "You and I both know it's not that easy. But I can create a treatment plan for you, and we can work together to unlearn all the negative things you internalized in that relationship."
"Can you cure me?" I said quietly, pulling on my necklace, and wanting an answer I knew he couldn't give.
"Xander, it will be a long process. But, I can promise you it will help. Does that sound like a plan?"
I gnawed on my lower lip, pulling on my necklace and thinking. It took me several seconds to say anything, "I'll try."
#
The doctor sent me home with a few sheets on C-PTSD and scribbled his personal number on his business card in case I needed someone to talk to. When I asked why he was doing so much for me, he hesitated.
"Three years ago when you left your session with me, my gut told me you weren't going to come back. And every time I think about it I regret not doing more. I'm not under any illusions that I can help everyone who walks through these doors but I felt like maybe I could have said the right thing, or gave you the right resource. Since you've come back I want to ensure you know I'm extending every avenue of recovery towards you."
I was nodding, really touched by his words. Hope glimmered for a small moment before Dr. Andoh escorted me from his office.
As soon as I got out into the waiting room, Achilles shot up and was by my side in an instant. I saw him cataloguing my face, unsure what he was looking for. He reached an arm out, stroking my back, "Are you okay?"
I started feeling badly again, "I don't know, Doctor, am I?"
Dr. Andoh's voice was still smooth as silk and unperturbed. "It's good that you have a supportive partner, tell him about your diagnosis when you feel ready. I'll see you in a few days, please schedule your next appointment with Helen. Please, give the correct phone number this time."
He moved back into his office and I scheduled an appointment in three days time with the secretary. I felt like I was just doing what I was supposed to do, but nothing was really clicking yet.
Achilles was staring at me and I was looking anywhere but at him. We got to the car and as soon as Achilles sat down he turned to me, picking up my hand. "I love you, you know that right?"
This Achilles was so different from the one I'd met who was afraid to even think about touching me.
"I don't care if you're depressed, and if you need therapy or if you get sad sometimes. I'll be there for you, no questions asked."
I took my hand out of his, squeezing my knee. "Can you drive us home, please? Back to my place."
Achilles' face fell, but he turned the ignition on and put it into gear before setting off. I rolled down the window, liking the feeling of the wind whipping across my face. I almost felt alive.
About halfway into the hour long drive I was honest with him, "I'm mentally ill." I tried to say it with a dramatic flourish but it just came out sounding awkward. "Apparently, after Corey my brain got all fucked up." I explained what Dr. Andoh had told me about C-PTSD, and how me ignoring my issues had probably made them worse. "I just wish I could turn back time and never meet him." I said, at the end. But, telling him about it made me feel slightly less burdened, a little less guilty.
Achilles was quiet for a while, "It's okay. It'll be okay." One of his hands was loose on the wheel and the other was casually draped across his thigh. He didn't seem stressed at all.
"You can break up with me if you want." I said quickly, "In case you don't want to deal with this."
He shook his head, irritation flickering across his features, "Don't be ridiculous, Xander."
I didn't say anything for the rest of the ride home, suddenly feeling a sense of exhaustion I hadn't felt all day. I woke up to Achilles, shaking me and telling me we were home.
We walked hand in hand from the parking lot to the elevator and Achilles didn't let go of my hand the entire time.
I kept yawning, "I haven't slept in two days and suddenly I'm exhausted."
Achilles let go of my hand to unlock the penthouse door, "Any normal person would be falling off their feet right now." But as soon as he walked inside he wrinkled his nose and I ended up following suit.
"It smells like this place has been deep cleaned in bleach." I said, surprised that I had cleaned that excessively. "Let's open a window."
Instead of going off to open a window, Achilles gave me a sudden but tight hug. His cheek was against mine, and I felt slight stubble scratching against my skin. He was holding me as much as I was holding him, "This doesn't change anything, Xander. Honestly. We can take it easy tonight, and do whatever it is you want to do."
I drew away from him, "Can we cuddle on the couch in our pajamas? I know it's barely seven pm but that's what I want to do."
Achilles cupped my cheeks, "Yes, let's do that."
For the first time all day I smiled. I went off to my room to change, choosing a loose pair of sweats and one of Achilles' shirts I'd stolen.
Achilles officially had a drawer with his things inside and a small portion of the closet was his. He changed into drawstring pair of pyjamas and a wife beater. Damn, it made his biceps look great.
Achilles went into the kitchen as I cycled through Netflix looking for something I totally wasn't going to pay attention to. Some minutes later he came out slowly with two mugs of hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows. He set them down on the coffee table making sure to put them over the coasters.
"Can we talk?" Achilles said softly, sitting down on the couch so that he was facing me.
I started humming, randomly putting a show on and talking over Achilles, "Wow, you made hot chocolate, thanks!"
Achilles came closer on the couch, running his fingers over my thigh, drawing an imaginary pattern. "Xander." He said quietly and this time I knew I couldn't ignore that.
"Yeah?"
"Tonight, we can do whatever you want. I just want you to feel safe right now. But, eventually, we're going to need to talk about how this changes things."
I shook my head, "It doesn't change anything."
"Of course it does, Xander. It means we're going to have to communicate more, that you have to start being honest with me. It's okay to need space." Achilles' hand moved up into my hair, twirling a strand around his finger. "But, it's not okay to isolate yourself."
"I don't want to talk about this right now." I said in a small voice.
Achilles blinked, removing his hand from my hair, "Okay. That's okay, too."
"It's just..." I sighed, "This is going to sound crazy but I feel like everything leads back to Corey and I just never want to think of him again. Ever. But, I can't and if all my issues really stem from my problems with him then I just feel like I can never go beyond it." I picked up my hot chocolate slurping at a marshmallow, "So, can we just, I don't know drink hot chocolate and relax on the couch and watch—" I looked up at the screen, "Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir."
—I don't watch this show but apparently it's popular? Like there's a dedicated fandom even though it's a children's show I think.—
Achilles snorted, moving beside me and wrapping his arm across my shoulder. "I'll pretend I understand French."
"Oh, whoops." I said, turning off the tv and putting down my mug.
I moved over, laying my head down on Achilles' thighs. I took one of his hands and put it in my hair, giving him an imploring look. He gave me a soft smile before twining his fingers in the strands. "This is nice, too" Achilles whispered.
Achilles' voice and his gentle fingers were lulling me into sleep. For now, this was enough. But, I wondered if it always would be.
#
Overall thoughts?
Would you guys want to see a flashback of Xander and Corey?
Thoughts on Xander's Diagnoses?
Thank you guys for the lovely comments, and interest in the story!
Those everyday chapters I've been doing this past week will come to an end after the next chapter. I know it was fun and all but it just isn't sustainable. I'm really trying to reach the end of the story but I'm still experimenting with finding a satisfying ending. &