Session Five — Reassurance
“So, you mean it?” I ask, handing my boyfriend back our shared vape pen — ever since we’d begun using Delta Eight to calm our anxieties and my PTSD, things seem a lot easier to manage. “Really, really mean it, though?” I ask, holding my blanket close. The cool fabric feels nice against my warm arms and cheeks, “You’re not going to get tired of me?”
He looks at me with a crooked grin, the one that made me fall further in love with him the first day we met. “Of course, Babydoll. How could I ever get tired of you? You’re just… so delightful. I absolutely love you,” he says the same way he’s always said it before, with a factual expression and gentle, Southern twang, “I love those little sounds you make when you’re really happy.”
I bury my face in my blanket a bit, shy and feeling butterflies in my stomach, “I don’t make noises…” Yes, I do. It turns out that I make small, squeaky-like noises when I feel what I call ‘small’, or when I feel very, very girly and shy; so far, Devon is the only person who could ever made me feel that way. “I mean… okay, sometimes,” I deny, trying to play cool.
Devon moves my blanket away and replaces the empty space in my arms with himself, his dark, brown eyes peering into my soul. His face is like a sculpture that I can’t stop looking at. His features, his jaw, his nose, his eyes… his captivating smile… his energy… all of him is enough to set me on fire on the inside. As he creeps closer to my face with his lips, my heart flutters. Kissing him, I can feel his warmth radiating over me, so I try to hold it for as long as I can, holding him closer so the kiss lasts longer.
He pulls away from me, smiling his crooked smile, “Babygirl,” he says, my title rolling off his steamy tongue in a carefree tumble, leaping into my ears and disappearing, turning into goosebumps on my arms. “Let me love you,” he says, beckoning as his hands slide up my shirt, feeling over my chest.
Your hands are so warm. “I want you to… I am letting you,” I say softly, unsure if my words are reaching him. Before too long, the medication kicks in and I feel as if a slightly cooling summer breeze is rolling over my skin. As the windows are cracked open in our dimly-lit bedroom, everything feel comfortable and we can hear the early signs of evening’s approach: crickets, coyotes beyond the tree line, and the very few birds left awake before sunset. It feels like hours, but in only a few minutes, my clothes are strewn onto the floor and I can feel my pillow and blanket against my face.
“It’s been a week or so,” Devon purrs in my ear, laying next to me, facing me as he brushes some of my hair behind my ear, out of my face. “If you wanted… we could, uh,” he bites his lip gently, looking into my eyes, his eyebrow cocked slightly. Moving gently, he caresses my hip, pushing himself closer to me. I can feel him against me; he’s hard, and by the way I can hear him breathing, he’s aroused… more intensely than usual, it seems. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay… but… I’ve been thinking a lot about you. I miss how you feel…” His steamy voice glides over my neck and into my ears like a rolling thunder. Maybe it’s the medication, but everything feels ten times more sensitive. Everything. The breeze that isn’t there, the coyotes that aren’t making any noises… they all feel real and intense. I want this.
“So have me,” I say, my heart dropping into my stomach as I reach out and touch him, feeling his throb under my gentle grip, “You feel so warm… and your skin is so soft. Your hands are always warm and soft,” I blush, feeling his palm’s heat against my cheek while he thrusts gently in my hand. I move, getting up onto my knees and straddling his lap while he turns to his back. Looking down on him, I can see his eyes are sincere. He doesn’t mind that I’m a bigger girl and that I’m on top. The excitement alone gives me butterflies, but when I feel him going inside me and getting harder, I feel adequate.
He guides me, his hands on my hips, caressing me as I rock back and forth, feeling him fill me with everything he has. His breathing is harder, a little faster, and I can feel his pulse on my fingertips as I steady myself on top of him. Soon, he starts thrusting, jostling me about as he raises a hand to my chest, gripping into my breasts as they bounce with his movements. I can feel him against my cervix, tapping aggressively as he seems to try harder to go deeper inside me.
“God, I’ve missed this…” his slight Southern accent shines through his breathy, growling groan. “I forgot how soft and warm you are.” His purr is addicting — I ride a bit faster and harder, feeling him move inside me. His pulse is faster and his shaft grows thicker, throbbing inside like it has a heartbeat of its own. “I can’t… hold out for too long, Babygirl,” he breathes, thrusting harder. I can barely hear anything else over my own moans.
“I’m gonna…” I pant, feeling myself coming close to an orgasm. I ride a bit faster, my body singing in bliss while my mind sails off somewhere else — somewhere where there’s no screaming or static. No familiar voices telling me hurtful things. There is only me, my lover, our energy, and the bliss that he so lovingly fills me with. I can feel myself wanting to scream out in pleasure. Suddenly, I’m pushed to the side and laid on my back, looking up at my soul mate’s scruffy mug as he looks down at me he’s like a hungry wolf and I’m a delicious, delicate bunny.
“Babygirl… I’m… it’s happening,” he groans, breathing harder. He takes a deep breath in, shaking and filling his core as he thrusts harder, making me quiver. I can feel his shape inside me, urging me to cry out. I look down at his face, hoping to catch eye contact if he opens his eyes, but I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut, throwing my head back as I groan over his voice. “I’m… about to…” he stops suddenly. Everything stops. Sound, air, movement… even the breeze I so nicely hallucinated completely stops. I look down at Devon’s face, expecting to see him simply lost for words. What I see is barely human at all.
“Aww… why’d you stop? I was so close... well, it looks like I just won’t be needing you around anymore… since you can’t even let me finish.”
I take a deep breath and sigh quickly, “and… and it was… strange. It had the head of an antelope’s skull — or something, the horns were long and straight, kind of slightly bowing, you know, like an antelope,” I explain, bouncing my knee as I talk to my therapist. “It was… all black. It had creepy, lanky talon-like fingers, was slender, had long, pointy legs… walked on two feet, which it doesn’t even really have. Like, it’s always, constantly en-pointe… I can’t describe it right.” I’m panicking. I can tell I’m panicking, because my words are too fast and I can barely think. My mouth won’t keep up with my mind. “And… he was lanky, all black, a dual-tone type voice… you know? How one set of vocal chords is higher pitched than the other and… I can’t tell if it’s a male voice or female — the voices blend together. This… thing is just… all black and… tall, lanky, eerie… and when I first saw it… it was on top of me… using me… and I couldn’t move.”
“When you saw this creature… you were making love to your boyfriend?” the doctor asks, pointing her pen at me, “Were you anxious? Experiencing anything odd?”
I shrug, “Nope… I was completely serene and everything was perfect.” Too perfect. I’d researched similar things like this and it really sounds like it might be… “Sleep paralysis?” I suggest. “When I encountered this, I wasn’t able to move. I was very relaxed and lucid, so maybe my mind just assumed that this state of relaxation — that I rarely get to feel — was sleep, or a peaceful feeling similar to sleep… so maybe I had a bit of sleep paralysis.”
“That sounds logical, Jessica,” the therapist nods, scribbling more notes, as she does, “But sleep paralysis usually stems from feelings of anxiety.”
“I don’t know anyone more anxious than me,” I sigh, “But like I said, maybe it was just too weird to not be anxious about something and my brain thought I was in trouble because of it? Or I dissociated or something, but I’ve never seen that thing before… it didn’t even opens its mouth to talk, I could just hear it.”
“The monster you’re describing almost sounds demonic,” the doctor says in a slight surprise, “are you sure you don’t want to talk a bit about spirituality? I mean… you know what I’m going to suggest, right?”
“Prayer?” I scoff, “No, thanks. This isn’t religious. It didn’t feel like it,” I say, shrugging it off, “I want to finally be prescribed something that’ll help me,” I say, leaning forward, “That is… if I’m even registered or checked in. When am I gonna get some answers, Doctor?”
“Everything’s fine, Jessica… just tell me more about that monster you saw,” she clicks her pen, switching to a fresh sheet of lined paper, “Black, lanky, talon-like fingers, antelope-skull for a head…”
“Not… for a head, but similar in shape, for sure,” I say, putting my hands in my hoodie pockets. I sigh, clearly fed up, confused, and wanting to give up. “I really think it’s sleep paralysis. If that’s the case, then my anxiety and PTSD have gone untreated for way too long.” I look up at the doctor, scribbling away in her clipboard, “Are you gonna diagnose me sometime?”
“So far you’re clearly depressed, have clinical anxiety, and PTSD for sure. And… from what I can determine here… definitely beginning signs of sleep paralysis,” she shrugs, “Seems pretty spot-on to me.”
“So… are you prescribing me anything?” I ask, looking around the room awkwardly, “You’re a therapist but also a psychiatrist… you have the power to medically treat me with whatever drugs you think will help me out.”
“In time, Jessica. I need to get to know you a bit better before we delve into that realm of treatment and recovery,” she says. Finally, she’s beginning to sound like an actual doctor and not like a wet cardboard box. “I think one more session will help determine what we need to treat you for. Sound fair?”
I sigh, standing up just as the alarm sounds, chiming the end of the session. “Yeah, I guess.” She’s never going to diagnose me. I swear, these people only listen because they’re paid to. That thing I saw… what if I see it again? Ugh, what do I do?