Fleurs Captives (Joshler)

66. Persimmon

Persimmon:
meaning- bury me amid nature's beauties

***Trigger warnings for PTSD, panic attacks, flashbacks, two incidents of vomiting with minimal description of the vomit, mention of an IV, mentions of violence, mentions of past abuse, and slight self harm.***

Start the song. It's Lenders in the Temple by Conor Oberst.

Josh couldn't remember the night terror he'd had before he shot up in bed, gasping through a panic attack that made him feel like the whole world was crumbling in around him as he tried to reorient himself. It lasted for an hour, and it wasn't until Josh's breathing started to regulate that he realized he'd peed the bed. He was twenty years old, and he'd just peed the bed.

Tears were still streaming down Josh's cheeks and his body was still trembling as he shakily climbed out of the bed and stripped the soiled sheets off of it. He felt lightheaded, like he might pass out, as he changed into new boxers. He gathered the clothing, sheets, and blankets up into a ball and stumbled through the dark house to the laundry room. He'd just dropped his sheets into the washer, along with his sweatpants and boxers, when the he heard someone come down the hall.

As soon as Josh made eye contact with his mom, he knew that she understood exactly what was going on. She wordlessly shifted him to the side as she put detergent into the washer for him before starting it. Then she pulled him into a hug. He was too embarrassed and ashamed to hug back, his bottom lip trembling furiously as he struggled to hold back tears. It didn't work, and suddenly Josh was sobbing and clinging to his mother as he apologized over and over.

"Shhh," she hushed him gently. "It's okay. It's okay. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I love you. This isn't your fault. I'll help you take care of it. It's okay."

"I-I-I don-don't even remem-remember what I dreamed about. I j-j-just woke up, and and I c-couldn't breathe, and-" Josh tried to explain through sobs, but his mother quieted him gently.

"You're safe now, and you're not in trouble. You have nothing to be afraid, embarrassed, or ashamed of. But if it makes you feel better, we can just keep this between you and me, okay?" His mother coaxed gently. When Josh nodded shakily, she kissed his forehead and led him to the bathroom. "Go ahead and take a nice warm shower, and I'll put clean sheets on your bed and make some hot chocolate."

Josh nodded, coughing through a sob. "Okay."

"You can even take a bath if that will help more. Do whatever feels safest and most comfortable to you," his mother told him softly. "And if you need anything, let me know. I'm your mommy. This is what I'm here for."

Even though Josh nodded, panic swelled inside of him when his mom left to give him privacy. He didn't move. He made no attempt to undress and get in the shower. He just stared at the open bathroom door and trembled as tears burned his eyes. His breaths started to stutter in his chest, and he felt like he was going to throw up. He squeezed his eyes shut and scratched his nails harshly across his eyelids and cheekbones as he tried to contain the overwhelming fear rapidly overtaking him.

Josh's mom must have realized the door hadn't closed and the shower hadn't turned on because he heard her come back into the room after a few moments. He heard her gasp quietly before her hands were taking his to keep him from harming himself as he started to hyperventilate. She tried and failed to calm him until he pulled out of her grip and collapsed into front of the toilet, throwing the lid up and vomiting into the bowl.

He had no control over his body as his stomach emptied itself while sobs ripped through his chest. He only cried harder when his mom touched him or tried to calm him, so she gave him space instead. He vomited until he had nothing left in his stomach, and then he curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor and sobbed until he ran out of tears too.