*This is a SFW work of fiction as told by the character Lucas Turner of Monterey Valley (WARNING! Link=NSFW) Read Lucas’ first appearance here*

It’s easy to talk about this in my head, when it’s just me and my own thoughts. But as soon as I have to open up to someone, It gets so much harder… Bizarre. I’ve lived with this for so long. I know it for the insidious monster it is, slithering through my mind. By its very nature, It disables me from helping myself, from revealing those thoughts that will help the most. Because if I do… If I admit they are there… I will have to do something about it. Change. Work…

Or… I can do nothing. Stay the way I am. Rot. And know (and use as ammunition against future change) that I am the worthless soul keeping myself where I am…

“I…” Fuck. This hasn’t gotten any easier. I run my fingers through my hair as I take a deep shuddering breath. Calm. Calm… There’s no calm though. Instead I feel a flare of anxiety rush up inside me, twisting my stomach as it pools in my chest like a black hole. It’s a wound spring holding tension but it feels like I could wind it to infinity before it snapped. A spring that’s being pulled down into the quicksand that fills the pit of my stomach.

“I’m journaling.” I finally manage. But inside, I’m dead, wondering why I’m even here, why I’m even trying. Señora? All she sees is my smile, my feigned, casual disinterest and my usual submissive attitude. “And sleeping better.” I add, “I have a schedule. In bed before 12. Up before 6:30.” To be honest the sleep schedule isn’t bad. It’s hard for me to follow some nights depending on how I feel… But most of the time, waking up feeling a might more refreshed has had a big impact on my morning.

“I see. Is that all? We have talked much about the habits that do not serve you and the habits you can replace in their stead. Are you exercising? Eating right?” Señora’s voice is firm as ever. But lately, it has a softness to it that I have not known since I met her so many months ago. Something has changed. Something for the better, I think. It’s little things, simple actions that she’s adopted to show me a level of care I haven’t before felt from her. It’s unusual. It’s jarring. It’s… Amazing.

Something in my chest jerks, anchor chain dropping fast, brakes smoking, on fire.

And then it snaps.

I flinch, jaw flexing, teeth grinding…

I want to cry.

I don’t though. I haven’t cried in front of someone in years and I’m not about to start today.

“I run. Every day. 6 O’Clock.” It came out in a whisper. Anything louder and I’d have let out a sob. What is happening to me… “Stretch before a 30 minute run, cooldown and yoga to keep limber. I know how you like to fold me, Señora…” The last is an afterthought, a quip, and my lips curl into a secret smile that’s almost a smirk.

I’m masking.

But I don’t think she notices.

“Good” Señora smiles. It’s warm, makes my body hum with delight and… Happiness. I clench my jaw and sallow to keep my lips from quivering. “Good mi Perrito…” Her’s is a soft smile. But her eyes are piercing. The way she’s sat there, lit by the setting sun, swirling her glass of wine with one leg crossed over the other at the knee… It’s like watching a predator while you wait for it to eat you. Her four inch heel is dangling playfully from the tips of her toes. I’ve never seen Señora do that before…

I bring my fingers to my lips before I can think, taking a nail between my teeth and-

“Perrito…” It’s the softest rebuke she’s ever given me. But it’s enough.

My hands drop to my lap where I immediately start picking at the seam on my jeans, fingernail flicking back and forth across the roughly sewn junction.

My eyes are fixed on hers. I thought I was fooling her. I thought I was good enough. I thought…

But the way she’s looking at me, maybe I’m the one that’s been fooling myself…

Author’s note.
I hope I have made it obvious. This story is about mental health and how a person struggles with their inner daemons. Are they a force harnessed for positive, forward movement? Or a destructive hurricane that only destroys? Regardless of where you let the energy take you, it’s important, I think, to remember that what appears to be happy, satisfied and… Normal… On the outside. May look very, very, different on the inside.
-Vale