her girlfriend.

one-hundred-two

Never in my life did I ever except therapy and just talking to a therapist to help me. I never really believed in that before. It sounded so stupid to me that just talking to a doctor could help me.

That thought isn't strange anymore, it's a reality. I'm usually a fucking mess after having one bad nightmare but I'm not anymore. I mean, I'm still a little bit fucked up but not as bad I used to be.

I'm so much better now, just thirty minutes after crying and shaking in my girlfriends arms after she had to snap me out of it. I don't feel nearly as ruined as I would just a couple months ago.

And I'm so proud of that. I'm proud of myself as I'm washing my face with cold water at the sink with a mad concerned girlfriend behind me, watching every move I make. It's weird but I'm glad.

Sabrina is proud, too, or she will be. Right now, I think she might be a little more concerned than anything else and I get that but I wish she'd listen. "You can't just tell me you're okay after that!"

"But I-I a-am," turning around to face her, those piercing blue eyes make direct fucking contact with my soul and it makes my breath hitch in my chest. I don't think I'll ever not love her eyes.

"If you can't even be vulnerable with me then-- " she trails off, shaking her head as she finds her phone on the countertop, "I'm calling to say I won't be on set today and I have to stay with-- "

"I-I'm f-for-for real, Sabrina." my voice is still shaky and I have one of those headaches I always get after crying but I mean what I say to her. It makes it so hard for her to fully believe, though.

Obviously, I get that. If I was in her place, then I'd be the same way. I'm sure of that but I feel her slowly coming to terms with me being pretty okay as she searches my blood-shot green eyes.

Sabrina smiles softly which makes me feel a little more better, her hands finding mine and our fingers lacing together almost instantly. "You fucking promise, River? I will call the director-- "

"Yes, cariño," cutting her off by mumbling those words as I lean in for a soft kiss on her lips to make me feel a little bit better again but I pull away to say, "J-Just-Just hurry b-back, o-okay?"

***

Been dealing with nightmares for so long now. It's about fucking time I start to get some control on how it impacts me. It only took nearly ten years but honestly, I just grateful that it's here.

The day has finally come where I'm okay after a nightmare. I mean, not okay. I'm okay enough to not be so needy with Sabrina, letting her go do her movie-making business all day without me.

Sure, I may not come out of my room all day but I'm okay in there. It's a baby-step, in reality, but in my mind, it's huge. I'm not crying, not shaking, not thinking bad thoughts, not being so needy.

I take that win. I'm not happy but I'm good laying in this bed, my big ass dog laying next to me and probably wondering why we aren't outside on the backyard playing with his favorite toys.

I'm scrolling through twitter and while it might not be a productive day at all, it's productive in the sense that it could be worse but it's not. If you have anxiety and shit like me, you get that.

"I know you like your space, River, but I'm bored," on the other side of the door is my girlfriend's sister who is understandably wanting me to come and socialize, "Also, Sabrina told me to make sure you eat and drink enough water and you know she gets protective and will beat my ass-- "

"You c-come i-in-in," she's in this bed next to me and Abstract within barely a full fucking second with a bottle of water for me because I know she just as sweet as her sister which is a damn lot.