Tequila & Birdcages

Deja vu |d.s|

CW: yelling, triggers of past abuse

Ever since school has started back up, Diane has been really tense. It's her first year doing full-time; so I understand that she feels a lot of stress and pressure. I've tried my best to make things easier around the house. I mostly stay at home, working part-time while pursuing my passions of writing and acting.

She's always told me I don't have to do anything—that she'll take care of me. It's helped a lot to lower my naturally high stress levels. However, now that she's taken on even more responsibility outside the house, it's the least I could do to pick up the slack. A few weeks have gone by and I noticed that her anxiety hadn't lowered at all.

I'm beginning to get worried as I figured she'd be in a routine by now. Diane is a person who protects her peace at all costs, so to see her like this is kind of scary. Her mood is always so unpredictable, which I've never experienced with her prior to this. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy for her because I know this is something she's always wanted.

I'm just worried that maybe she hasn't prepared herself for all that would be asked of her. The time I've allotted to her time to adjust is almost run out. Of course I can't make her quit and that's not my intention at all. I just mean that it might be time to have a chat and see if there's anything more I can do.

When Diane is not ok, I'm not either. Not to mention the endless triggers she's been setting off in me. I've tried my best to hide them because I know she doesn't mean to and it's not her fault. I didn't think I'd ever have to face these things again and so it's been that much harder to conceal. However, I suppose my subconscious never forgot self-preservation.

Anytime she yells, I internally cower but on the outside I just appear to be listening intently. On one hand I am and on the other I'm just very very scared and trying to assess the situation. It's not that I think she'll hurt me, I just can't help but to compare her voice to my mom's. I can't go through that again—I won't.

The sound of the door opening breaks me away from the attention on my laptop. I wasn't even working on anything, just staring at it in thought. I hear her footsteps, shoes coming off, more footsteps, and then her bag being strewn on the table in front of me. She walks to the kitchen and immediately goes to the fridge where I know she's looking for wine.

This is another thing that worries me. I'm not saying it's bad to drink but to immediately need one upon coming home? What happened to hugs and kisses being enough to satisfy her. She once told me that a simple look from me could calm her soul. Now she barely even makes eye contact, instead her first line of defense is a sip of red.

"Hi..." I mumble and after finishing the pour she turns to me, leaning her back on the counter. "How was your day?" I ask timidly and she sighs after taking a sip, "the same. Fucking busy" she complains and I nod along. Again, cussing isn't bad on its own, it's just her tone. When I first met her she barely cursed at all and would even scold me when I did so casually.

I quickly unlearned the habit and only spoke so explicitly if I was pissed off or just really worried about something. "Oh I'm sorry... is there anything I can do? I can run you a bath and make dinner" I propose and she shakes her head. "Well ummm we could watch a movie or something together? I remember you telling me about-" "please. Just... stop talking" she interjects and I close my mouth immediately.

After a few minutes the glass is empty and she's pouring another. "What have you been working on today?" She asks and I've since gone back to my writing so I had to look up at her. She's staring back at me expectantly and before I can stop it, the reply just comes out. "Oh am I allowed to speak now?" I snap and her eyes widen slightly as do mine.