Ending In Death

Nala

Sitting at a bar was the last place I really wanted to be. But my therapist, Eve, says I need to ‘attempt to reconnect with society.’ Social anxiety has always been an imposing challenge I’ve had to face, but these last six months have disconnected me from reality farther than I have ever been. Making me wonder if I could ever return to a conventional life of a mid-twenties girl.

Guess if I were going to pick any bar, this is the place to be with the way the people were packed in here on a random Wednesday night. Even if I picked a weekday to avoid the crowd. Maybe being around other people would be a good thing.

HA! Don’t kid yourself, girl.

But the bass felt good vibrating through my body, the drinks were stout, and for just a minute I’m not physically alone.

From my place in the back corner of the bar, I can’t help but look around and watch. Watch the women in too short dress, too high heels, and unmarked skin grind on any man that passes by on the dance floor. Watch the way the lights reflect off the dark wood floors, the shiny black leather chairs and couches, and too expensive watches. The balcony above me has glass panels for railing so I can see what looks to be VIP seating. As if the ground floor wasn’t bougie enough.

The simple neon sign outside may have just tricked me. If anyone gives me more than a second glance, they will see I stick out like a sore thumb in this place. My cropped navy tank top, daisy dukes, black boots, and more tattoos than most women here have brain cells, don’t belong. This is vastly different from the rural farm town I came from.

I signal to the bartender for another drink. It has been about 25 minutes since I arrived, only 35 more minutes until I can go home to my empty bed. The bartender hands me my second drink, I focus on the tv ahead of me hoping the time will go by faster.

“Hi! Are you by yourself tonight?” someone semi-yells over the music.

I look over to find a slender woman who is wearing a luminous gold mini dress with matching shoes, and jewelry that’s probably more expensive than the entire apartment building I live in. Her skin is a flawless dark olive color with even darker hair, impeccable makeup, and teeth brighter than my future.

“Yes.”

Please go away.

“We could always use an extra woman to party with!”

We? I look past her and see two other women with similar fashion choices. One who looks like a carbon copy of the first woman except in silver. The other in a similar yet much more simple black dress, blond-haired, and same flawless appearance. Big sigh.

“I’m good, thanks though. Not going to be here for much longer.”

“Oh, in that case, cool if we just sit with you? We’ve been dancing for the last hour and could use a break anyway.”

I just shrug and nod my head toward the seats to my left. I’ve become good at ignoring people anyway. As they take them, the blond-haired woman speaks up from the seat farthest away from me.

“So, what’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.”

All right then, small talk it is. What happened to ‘just sit’?

“Nala”

The blond gestures toward herself; “I’m Maggie.”

She then points to the woman directly in front of her in gold; “Katana” then the other in silver “and Thalia, they are twins.”

I nod once.

“Are you new to town? Just visiting?” Katana says to me.

“I actually just moved here from out of state about a week ago.”

“What brought you to wonderful Denver, Colorado?” Thalia pips.

That didn’t take long to get to questions I can’t really answer; “Started driving and this is where I stopped is all. Didn’t really have a plan in place.” A lie I must tell, absolutely nothing about coming to Colorado was unplanned.

“What I would do to have that kind of freedom! That’s amazing that you were able to pick up your life and move.” Maggie comments.

“Eh, everything good comes at a price.” I shrug.

Katana laughs as she swirls her drink; “Tell me about it, finally was able to get out of a long toxic relationship just to be incredibly lonely.”

Thalia rolls her eyes, I feel she has heard this one too many times tonight, she looks at me; “We are partying the lonely away tonight.”

She looks at her sister; “Now stop bringing it up and enjoy the rest of the night.”

I give them a slight raise of my eyebrows. Seems like we do have something in common after all.

Eager to change subjects Maggie says, “You should join us for coffee or brunch sometime. We usually meet at Fae’s Coffee on 4th Street every Friday morning. We could help you get acclimated to the new surroundings.”

Thalia and Katana agree enthusiastically. My heartrate picks up drastically. I didn’t come here for this… or did I? Tonight, was supposed to be sitting in a public space for an hour to make my therapist happy. Am I ready for this? They seem friendly enough. Before I can even give it another thought I blurt out,

“Ok.” What.

“Oh yay!” Katana claps.

Thalia gestures towards the bartender as Maggie gives a huge smile.

Taking a pen and napkin, Thalia writes out a phone number and hands it over to me.

“This is my phone number, feel free to text if you get lost and need help getting there. I’m an early riser to I know I’ll be up in plenty of time. These two sometimes run late.”

I take the paper napkin looking at the numbers. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Well, I better be getting out of here, busy day tomorrow.”

I inwardly roll my eyes at myself. Busy day? You don’t even have to be awake until one in the afternoon.

“No problem! We will see you Friday!” Maggie exclaims.

I nod to all three as I stand, and they each give me a respective smile back. As I’m walking out, I take a deep breath trying to get my heartrate to slow. Count to three…one…two…three. Another deep breath. I can’t help but excessively go over what just transpired. Did I potentially make…friends?

I pull out my phone, hands shaking slightly, and call for an Uber, then wait by the curb. Glancing at the time, right at an hour. I did it. I was in public without a panic attack for an hour and talked to multiple people. Even if it was three women and a very brief conversation, I still did it. I straighten my shoulders, stand a little taller, and give myself a little smile. You go, girl.

……………………………………………………………

I wake up mid-morning the next day, opening my eyes, I lay there in my bed not wanting to get up. It’s been a week, but I’m still not completely acclimated to being here. All the suitcases I brought with me are unpacked making the studio apartment cozy enough, not the worst place I could be…or have been.

Dark wood covers the floors, with a change to a brownish tile in the kitchen area. Though I have no idea if the tile is supposed to be that color. All the walls are the same light gray color, my metal frame bed sits to the right of the door with a simple nightstand and dresser to hold all my belongings.

When I sit up, I’m facing the kitchen. I remember when my biggest worry was how updated the kitchen needed to be in the new house I was looking to buy. I loved to cook at one time. Now I’m lucky if my body can manage food once a day. Thank you, Depression.

I still absorb the view of large plastic counters along the left side of the kitchen, there’s a fridge and oven that’s probably older than me on the opposite side. Not bad, not great.

I peek out the window , then swing my legs over the side of the bed and make my way to the bathroom.

Morning Routine: Use bathroom, brush teeth, then take all my lunatic pills. I figure I should take a shower since I must see my therapist later. Turning on the water, I contemplate how much I should tell her about last night. I don’t want to make a big deal out of anything and scare myself out of actually meeting up with those girls tomorrow. Then again, I know Eve would be proud of me. I don’t usually concern myself with others’ opinions, but I can feel a part of me craving the approval right now.

After my shower, I dress in my usual cropped tank top, daisy dukes, and boots. I throw my black hair in a messy ponytail, and I never wear makeup, if someone doesn’t like the way I look then they can look away. I grab coffee and the phone number Thalia gave me last night and program it into my phone. Baby steps.

……………………………………………………………

I walk into the charming office off Spruce St, greeted by the receptionist, Connor. At least I think that’s his name.

“Hello, do you have an appointment today?”

“Yes, Nala Dryden, I’m here to see Ms. Eve.”

“Ok, let me get you checked in…. Ok, you may have a seat, she will call you when she is ready.”

I nod and take a seat. I’ve only be to this therapist in person once before today. Though we connected right after the incident via video call when I was back home. At first, I was hesitant sharing my problems with someone else, especially after my trust in humanity being absolutely shattered, but so far it hasn’t been the worst experience. Our relationship has grown into a solid support system for me… well the only support system I have left.

“Nala”

I hear Ms. Eve call from her doorway. I stand and walk into her sanctuary, taking a seat on the blue linen fabric love seat beside the large floor to ceiling window on the far wall. She has one side of the velvet navy blackout curtains drawn about halfway, letting in sunshine. Other than a floor lamp behind the loveseat, that’s the only light source in the room. The dark green walls and the plants covering the expanse of the walls, make the room remarkably peaceful. Dark, but peaceful.

“Good afternoon, Nala. It’s lovely to see you again. How has this past week been for you?”

Ms. Eve is sitting across from me in a chair that matches the loveseat I’m sitting on. “Good. I went in public like you asked me to. Last night actually.” Might as well cut to the chase.

“Oh, and how did that go? Did you practice the three of your skills we worked on?”

“Yeah, I had to do the breathing techniques to get me through, but I made it. I went to a bar downtown. First, I found a seat in the back corner at the end of the bar, felt less intimidating there.” Eve nods steadily as I retell last nights events. “Then I ordered a drink and just sat there, took in my surroundings, watched tv, watched people.”

“Did you feel anxious about anything at this point?”

“Not really. I felt ok. Being completely honest, I didn’t want to be there, but I wasn’t overwhelmed.”

“That’s progress! Did you talk to anyone or have any interaction with another person besides the bartender of course?”

“Yes actually.” I clasp my hands together in my lap and squeeze them together.

Eve glances down at my hands, knowing the anxiety tick I can’t seem to let go of. “Did the interaction go well?”

I give her a run down of my conversation with the girls I met. “And they want to met tomorrow morning at Fae’s Coffee on 4th Street.”

Eve smiles broadly. “Do you think you are ready to take that next step and meet with them?”

I sit and ponder for a second. These past 6 months have been the loneliest of my entire life. My mind and body are yearning for friendship, camaraderie, anything. I don’t want to live this way forever and if not now, when?

“No, but I think I’m going to do it anyway. I need to push past these invisible boundaries my mind has put up. That’s the only way I’m going to get over what happened.”

“You are more capable than you realize. You have made considerable progress since we first met six months ago. Remember the skills you have perfected, deep breathing, counting, tapping your foot. I think you will do marvelous. You will amaze yourself with what you can do.”

Ms. Eve and I go over my coping skills more and she pumps me up the rest of the visit. As I’m walking out and saying goodbye, I feel more qualified than ever for my meet up. As if this weight on my shoulders has lifted just a bit.