All Things Unspoken

Meeting

"Doesn't it sometimes make you feel.. mad?"
"What thing?"
"This feeling of..Well, when you're not really sure what to feel, or how to feel certain things? Like, I can't take any compliment seriously. I can't accept them. My brain is just rejecting them all the time. How do I reply? Do I say "thank you"? Do I just nod and smile as an immediate response?  Do I just not say anything at all and make things even more awkward? Do i compliment the other person back? What the actual fu-"
"You know we said we won't allow any more cursing in our meetings, right?"

I sighed and sat back straight in my seat, heard the back of my neck pop slightly and exhaled as I tried collecting my thoughts back in track again.
"Yeah, you're right. All this anger management whatever has to be fixed. Uh-huh". I was nodding my head in response to myself, while coming back to my senses, realizing the purpose of me coming here.
"You've made great progress though, Lillyan. I'd say, I'm proud of you. You should be of yourself, too".
"See, as I was previously saying, I can't bring myself to accept any words of affirmation coming from other people. Heck, coming from me is even worse to think of."
"Sometimes, it's not hard accepting who and what you truly are. It's all a matter of time. Baby-steps, but slowly and efficiently we'll try and achieve this, alright?"
"Um, what if I just simply can't?"
"You can't, or you don't want to?"
Again, I sighed. I cupped my hands together, looking down at them, twisting my thumbs against one another, drowning in the darkest of my voids.

I swear it felt like a second, close and hardly to a whole minute. My head felt light and my feet went numb. Cold sweat running down my palms and onto my light washed jeans. I couldn't keep up with my breathing, I lost control of it. My heart felt like bursting out of my chest and my stomach was filled with teeny tiny needles swimming throughout the gastric fluids. I swear, something was crawling up my throat trying to escape, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"Oh, shit!", I exclaimed and stood up as fast as I could, trying to reach the door. Couldn't even grasp the feeling, or memory, of myself pulling the door knob so I could escape the room. I could've fallen down as well, my knees feel weak and wobbly, like jelo.

"Hey, are you alright?"
"Y-yeah, I'll manage."
"Here, have some wet towels and wrap them around your neck."
"Thanks."
I don't remember how I ended up in here. My face is covered with throw-up from the chin down to the neck of my t-shirt. Ugh, it was even my favorite t-shirt. I can't properly open my eyes, they feel swollen. My vision is so blurry and the tears are starting to burn my eyes a little bit. How did I end up curled on the floor next to a toilet seat? And who was that person who helped me? I vividly remember their voice but can't bring myself to remember anything else other than that.
"Lillyan, are you alright?", asked my therapist, worriedly. 
"I will be.", I took a deep breath and stood up, heading out of the bathroom stall.