"So Y/N, I see that this week you've been experiencing heightened levels of anxiety and paranoia...with lower mood, too. Is there anything in particular you feel has influenced this?" You shrugged, shifting uncomfortably.
"Not really...I mean, I've been...it's been six months today since I experienced my first...episode." You said, hands twisting anxiously. "I'm just so afraid that they'll...that they'll come back." Your eyes flickered to the mirror on her wall, wondering whether it was large enough for someone to fit through. She followed your gaze and gave a nod of understanding, standing and removing it, placing it face down on top of her cabinet. "Thank you." You took a sharp breath, gathering yourself.
"Y/N, if you aren't able to discuss it just yet that's perfectly fine. I don't expect you to do anything you cannot." She reassured, and you nodded, biting your lip so hard it started to throb.
"I don't think I can go into the details yet." You admitted, closing your eyes against your oncoming migraine. "But these episodes are persistent. Strong. They have means of getting to me and there are only a few things stopping them."
"Like breaking all the mirrors in your house?" She questioned softly, and you shook your head.
"Only ones that are big enough...a certain size is fine. Just not..."
"Not ones a person could fit through?"
"I know it seems so utterly ridiculous but this episode felt so real. So powerful. I can't convey enough how much it terrified me, the thought that it could return and every time I see myself in a mirror I start to notice other things." You stopped talking, clasping your trembling hands together.
"You don't have to invalidate yourself. If you think it will help you then of course doing it seems perfectly natural. This isn't about fixing you, it's about getting to the root of the problem and finding the best ways to help you cope, and the best ways to help you keep out of any future episodes." She pointed out, and you nodded, eyes glued to the floor. "Now, let's begin with how you were feeling at the beginning of the week, right after our last session..."
The rest of the appointment went by agonisingly slowly, and as you waved goodbye at the door you felt a sense of relief overcome you. There was no point to this, you thought. Nobody would ever believe the truth if you told them, not your therapist, not your friends and certainly not your family. After all, you had changed overnight from a somewhat confident person to a nervous, paranoid wreck so something so detailed and prolonged couldn't have possibly happened to you. Because it had been overnight; somehow Cordelia's portal had brought you right back to the moment you were taken in the first place, so when your family found you sobbing on the ground in front of your shattered mirror they immediately thought something was strange, asking if something had happened when shopping with your friends. You had enough wits about you to just babble about a bad dream, a bump in the night...but it wasn't enough to fool them once you started breaking mirrors around the house. They had stopped trying to replace them, instead letting you select ones you knew that none of them would ever be able to fit through. You were surprised they were being so accommodating, especially with your frequent angry outbursts and tearful meltdowns, though they had certainly lessened over time. Unsurprisingly enough, they had eventually - tentatively - suggested therapy, and you had taken them up on their offer, knowing it would make them feel more comfortable if you were getting some 'professional help'. And though it had been over two months and you hadn't said what had actually happened to you, the work with managing your anxiety and panic attacks had helped you massively.
You headed out into the bright sunshine, wincing slightly as you raked for your sunglasses, shoving them on your face as you crossed the car park. Some physical changes were still lingering with you; the sensitivity to sunlight, feeling more alert during the night...the dry, aching thirst. However, it wasn't nearly as bad as before, and you found if you just added some animal blood to one meal a day it staved it off. You had no idea why you still felt cravings for blood - you had quickly realised that was what it was you were after when you found yourself staring hungrily at the pulse throbbing in your best friend's neck; you were back in your own body - you had been since falling out of the mirror back to your world - so retaining these changes shouldn't have been possible. Yet you still felt the craving, still had the photosensitivity, and you were sure your canines could sharpen upon stimulation, though you never tried it out of fear of being right. Then there was your new bilingualism; you had retained your perfect writing, understanding and speaking of Japanese, something which actually helped you with your...research. Though it was really just you going over every single piece of information about the Sakamakis and Mukamis and whoever else might come to drag you back to their world. The games were the most accurate depiction, you thought, and you were certain that Karlheinz must have played a part in their creation. After all, he was barely in them so it made sense. Why would he broadcast himself to the world when he only needed the world to know about his children? Still, you consumed every depiction you could, almost obsessively. If you didn't know yourself better you would think it was because you missed them, but you did know yourself better; it was because you absolutely dreaded the potential that the day would come when you would be forced to go back and you wanted to be prepared for whatever may happen. You were broken from your thoughts by a loud wolf whistle, and you rolled your eyes, keeping your pace even as you walked past the culprit without offering a speck of attention.
