I hadn’t met my therapist for a while, but this time there was no avoiding it. I rang at the door and entered, and while I waited in the comfy, cosy room I thought about what I would say. I never knew beforehand, and this time was no exception. I’d have to improvise, as usual…

Eventually the doctor came to invite me into her office, a smile on her face. I took my usual place in the big chair, not even looking at the couch that took up about a quarter of the room. Couches not my own make me uncomfortable. I looked up and my eyes met hers. Before I could speak, she started.

“Today I’m going to do the talking. I have a story to tell you, and I think it might help. It was written by an author named Penni, in the purpose of helping people, and I’d like to know your thoughts on it. Do you agree?”

I was curious. I nodded, smiling, and the doctor started to talk…

“You shouldn't go.

That's what it kept telling Anna all night, this monster of hers. It was always behind her, whispering to her. It was a hideous thing, wrapping its long arms around her, and it seemed to be getting heavier every day. With a sigh, she forced herself to sit up in bed. The clock said it was 3:32AM, but she was sure five hours ago it was 3:30.

They know what happened. You know what they'll say.

Anna drew her knees up to her chest, tears rolling down her face. What happened to yesterday? When the weight of the monster seemed to be so far away. She ate more that day then she had in a week, even cooked her own meal, even if was just grilled cheese and some soup. Her good mood carried her throughout the day, cleaning her house without a care in the world. A friend stopped by, one that she hadn't seen in a long time. Anna's phone often dinged with invitations to events, but she could never bring herself to go. The friend was concerned and frustrated, believing that Anna wasn't making an effort to be a friend or even to try to get better. How long was she planning on being a hermit? Wasn't she supposed to be going back to work tomorrow?”

There were already tears in my eyes. This was too close to experience for comfort. But before I could ask the doctor to stop, she had resumed.

“Anna spent the rest of the day thinking about that face, her monster is sure to remind her of the eyes that would be on her, the gossip that would happen when she wasn't looking. She barely remembered that she needed to shower that day, how was she going to function at work? 5:45AM. Anna blinked. When did the time slip away from her? What had she been doing? She slowly stood, her body feeling as if it was made of lead. A fog hovered in her mind, somehow it was even hard to see clearly. The outfit she picked out the day before was hanging up on the hook on the wall. In her excitement, she eagerly picked something out, but now she couldn't stand to look at it. Opening her closet, she flinched.”

I flinched too. I knew what was coming. Oh Anna, I don’t care if you’re real or made up, I just want to stand next to you and tell you it’s all right…

“Before the monster came her favorite color was red, the vibrant color was the trigger of a nightmare.

Anna quickly shuffled through her clothes, finally grabbing the longest skirt she had and a cardigan that was too big for her. Next was getting to work. She would take the bus, as she always did. Remembering the sights along the route brought a smile to her face, but was quickly wiped away by the small crowd of people at the bus stop. She swallowed hard. She could do it, she rode the bus just last week with little trouble.

Thirty minutes later, Anna was gripping the arms of her chair. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. There were way more people on the bus than with her last trip. Fear instantly hit her when someone set down next to her, the strong scent of cologne filling her nose. The monster constantly whispered to her, reminding her of the pain, telling her she wasn't strong enough. She barely made it to her cubicle without being bombarded by co-workers welcoming her back. Trying to fight back the tears, she covered her ears, the sounds of the office threatening to overwhelm her. All she had to do was breathe.”

Breathe. Right. So that’s what I was forgetting. With the intake of air came the tears. I couldn’t stop them. I sent a silent plea to the doctor, please stop, don’t do this to me, I’m not strong enough… But she kept on reading.

“It will happen again, if not him, someone else.”

STOP IT!

“The monster bared down on her. 07:30 AM. Anna was already tired, it had taken everything just to get to the office, and her shift had barely begun.

“Anna?”

The voice spurred an instant smiling mask. “Oh, good morning Grace!”

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Of course!”

I choked on my own tears. How many times have I told that lie myself? How could nobody have seen the truth? Why couldn’t we just say “no, no I’m not okay, I am dying inside, the pain is too strong and I can’t make it stop”? My hands were over my mouth, when did they get there?

“Ok. Well, then here's the first client that the Boss wanted you to handle. I know it's your first day back so if you have any questions, please let me know.”

The tears nearly choked Anna. She took a deep breath before flipping on her computer and opening the file. 9:10AM. Anna blinked, numbers and words filled her computer screen, her handwriting was on the papers in front of her, but she couldn't remember what she had done. Even worse, what she had done was full of mistakes. The phone rang, her e-mail dinged, someone stopped by to say good morning. What was she supposed to be doing again? Voices chattered behind her when she turned her heart leaped into her throat. It was just a red tie, on a co-worker she had known for years.

It's the same tie from that day, isn't it? I told you it would happen again, you should have stayed home. Run.”

I ran. I couldn’t listen anymore. I didn’t want to hear the end of the story, I was assailed by my own memories, my own monster whispering in the intimacy of my brain “I told you that you were weak… I told you that you would break… I told you, didn’t I?”

I couldn’t go home, not yet, but I couldn’t go anywhere else. I didn’t feel safe. The voice wouldn’t shut up, wouldn’t leave me alone even for a few seconds. Every person I saw was a threat, each of them wore the face of one of my tormentors, their clothes a disguise hiding their true form, their surprised look just a mockery of my weakness. Tears were running freely on my cheeks, ruining the makeup I had put on to give me strength.

Ridiculous, isn’t it… The coping mechanisms we can have. I wear makeup like war paint, hiding my thousand yards gaze behind a mask of shades and mascara. Pathetic. And now the colors I had painted on my eyes were spreading all over my face, showing to the world the pain I was trying so hard to hide. Damnit, will it ever stop?