Detoxified

Chapter 12: Episode 9 - Part 1

Type didn't know how long they'd been in the shower. Could've been a half-hour, even an hour, perhaps even longer. All he did know was that Tharn had been latched onto him in a full-frontal embrace from the moment they'd stepped under the water. And Type wouldn't dare to disturb him.

After Tharn had come down from his unexpected panic attack, he'd just... Cried. Type had seen him shed a tear or two in their time of knowing one another, sometimes out of stress or frustration, other times out of joy or happiness. But he'd never seen Tharn completely disintegrate before. And as he disintegrated, it had been like every single memory and emotion he'd denied and repressed for years had just come flooding out of him.

"I've spent all this time lying to myself--telling myself that what happened wasn't that bad, and I had to believe it because I didn't want to be a victim; I couldn't handle the idea of having to think of myself as a victim. I wanted to just move on and live my life, and I couldn't do that with a label like 'victim' following me everywhere I go forever. And for years, it was working. I was able to just live and pretend nothing happened, but when San showed up at my house on my birthday, memories that I didn't even know I had started coming back to me. I tried telling myself the memories couldn't possibly be mine--that they had to be false, or something my mind was making up--but it wasn't working anymore."

And finally:

"I can't be a victim, Type. I can't deal with that being who I am-- all I am--"

That was when he'd dissolved into nothing but tears and wrenched sobs...

Tharn was certainly a talkative person, and yet Type didn't think he'd ever heard him say so many things before. And not only an abundance of things, but an abundance of things that were genuine, raw confessions. A stark contrast to Tharn's tendency to taint his words with a sort of false optimism, and definitely a contrast to his inclinations for secrecy and hiding his true feelings away altogether.

Type had just held him and waited for his cries to subside before saying anything. Really, he hadn't been entirely sure how to respond to Tharn's confession. He'd understood where Tharn's fears were stemming from, but... Tharn had spoken as though he was sure that, now that he'd admitted to recognizing the severity of what had happened to him, the entire world would somehow know about him too. He'd spoken as though he could no longer have an identity outside of being a victim. Like being a victim was actually an identity trait to even be had...

And even Type, who'd been struggling with such a label for close to a decade, knew that that couldn't have been farther from the truth.

And so, he'd posed a carefully-worded question to Tharn in that moment:

"Do you think the only thing that makes me who I am is the fact that I was a victim?"

He'd said it with the gentlest tone he could muster. Because he hadn't been offended. But he'd needed for Tharn to consider that, though the fear he held was valid and understandable, it was also a fear that could be proven wrong time and time again in just about every trauma survivor's story.

Tharn had only stared at him, silent, speechless, as that question had been left dangling in the air between them. He'd said nothing, but his eyes--self-exposing as they were--had spoken his realization of Type's point, nonetheless.

"My perception of you hasn't changed one bit," Type had said. "I still see a high-spirited, kind and caring man with the biggest heart a person could have. I still see an ambitious university student with friends and a loving family. I see a talented musician who plays sappy-ass songs for his boyfriend when he can't sleep... Your identity is not defined by the fact that you were victimized, your identity has never been defined by the fact that you were victimized, and your identity will never be defined by the fact that you were victimized. Believe that."