22 - Friday, January 1

                                    

                                          
Frantic eyes scanned the room while beads of sweat coalesced on my face. I wiped my cheeks in a futile attempt to stem that feeling of sadness beneath my skin and realized that I had wept in my sleep, unable to recollect the exact cause. As my awareness dawned upon the fact that it had merely been a haunting dream, I perched myself on the balcony, cigarette in hand. I felt like my entire being had been wrung out, leaving me exhausted down to the bone.
Once, the refuge of choice may have been taking pills or downing a few drinks to numb myself back into sleep, but those crutches had been stripped away. Vices had built up my walls over the years, but nothing could protect me from the onslaught of emotions anymore. It was hard not giving in to the urge when I felt the need so strong. For nearly a week, I had resolved to sever those chains. But every day was a battle waged against my own psyche, against unfamiliar and warring emotions, and saying no to myself was something I had not often done before.
The simpler truth was that I could scarcely remember a single week in recent years where I hadn't surrendered to weed or alcohol. Despite caring for myself for almost six years, now I found myself questioning my ability to steer my own ship. It became achingly apparent that without those brief escapes I was faltering in the basic responsibility of existing on my own.
I didn't know what to do or how to make myself feel better. Alex had spent New Year's at Gabi's, an offer I had turned down; even though I didn't know what she had told her sister about me and our current predicament, shame kept me from seeing her or Benji, not just the shame involving my own existence but also the situation I had caused between Alex and her family. I had already embarrassed myself enough.
Unaware of her return yet buoyed by hope, I traced hushed steps toward her bedroom. And as her name escaped in a whisper, the walls echoed it back to me, as silent as before. "Alex?" I let out again in a feebler tone. And when I heard the rustling of sheets and a soft, indistinct murmur, I already felt a tad bit lighter. The darkness of the room dissolved under the nightlight, unveiling her on the bed on her stomach, her tattooed upper back lit by the warm light.
Alex turned around, the blanket enveloping her as she sat up against the wooden headboard. "Mm?" her voice emerged in a mumble, her eyes barely able to pry themselves open, groggy and still immersed in slumber. "Everything okay, hone— uh, Kay?"
My voice cracked with the tears I had been trying to hold back as I muttered, "I feel like shit."
Wiping away the remnants of sleep from her eyes, she patted the space beside her. "Come here," she laid out, her voice sweet like a lullaby. 
Though a light sleeper, she seemed to be having a hard time completely awakening. Her half-conscious state was apparent in her misty gaze and groggy movements.
"You're naked, Alex."
Her eyes fluttered down to her bare shoulders and then back to me, where reality settled. And as she scooted to the edge of the bed and reached for the neat pile of clothes on the dresser, the blanket covered less with each passing second. I allowed my gaze to ascend her legs and her naked back. But a sudden rush of propriety flooded my senses, compelling me to avert my eyes, not even daring to peek in her direction.
In a moment, she was beside me, a gentle smile on her lips and a sleepy raspiness in her voice. "I'll make you some tea," she said and beckoned me to follow. "Tell me what's on your mind."
I slumped down on the chair at the kitchen island and dropped my head into my hands, massaging my temples in a vain attempt to ease the pounding ache that had settled behind my eyes. "Why do I feel like my anxiety is three times worse than before?"
"That's rebound anxiety. It's completely normal."
I exhaled a long breath. I already knew. "And I'm having these awful nightmares."