Retrograde▸bucky barnes

5. Mirror World

tw: anxiety, depersonalization, ptsd

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It was Monday evening and the week seemed long already. The job she was working with a local music management team was not fulfilling in the least. She had long been a part of the music industry, charading as tour management for years when really she was a part of their security detail. These days with smaller up and coming musicians the excitement was not the same as prior decades and she felt her most applicable experience to this new century was being wasted.

Her therapist had informed her it was normal to have days where it felt like a relapse from the progress they had made in the last year. Her therapist spoke of it so lightly, as if it did not feel like drowning.

As she got ready for bed she noticed that her nails matched the toothpaste as she squirted it onto the toothbrush.

I think I like this color even better now, all fresh and clean.

The mint of the toothpaste was a welcome change from the sticky feeling that had been residing in her mouth; the result of a too long day. As she brushed away the grime accumulated from the questionable food consumed today she watched herself in the mirror.

I'm not fit enough like I used to be. Why are my ears sunburnt? And my eyes, they're so empty for supposedly being the windows to the soul.

She felt her mind slipping off into oblivion where she could not stop it from spinning. The toothbrush slowed and she held it stationary in her mouth for a moment before taking it out. She knew that her physical state looked only mildly better than her current mental state, but she still wondered at how her physical body could display so little while her insides burned.

There was no physical pain, but her brain would just not quiet itself.

Shut up. You don't need to talk like this. It's fine if no one can see how much of an issue you're having. It's probably better off if they don't know anyways. Just shut up. There is nobody who should be subject to this anyway, even this therapist, she can't ever really know - I'm probably the only surviving supersoldier even trying to adjust to civilian life.

But now it was unstoppable watching herself in the mirror as her brain churned out of control and an intense anguish overcame her. It hurt, if it could even be called that. It would not stop, it just kept going on forever without coming to an end. And her body betrayed nothing. The way her eyes looked did not change, she kept her face steady in the mirror and allowed the pain to be completely imperceptible.

Then she screwed up her face and pretended that her eyes looked sad and let her shoulders drop and let her hands shake. But still, the mirror did not reflect her.

So she let her face fall slack and everything back to its resting position, and just stared unthinking at herself while her brain swirled tremendously.

You've got to shut up. At least go to bed. You need sleep.

A tear fell but nothing else in the room moved, it was just Lena and the silence and small movements of neighbors and night noises.

After far too long Lena managed to wrench herself away, away from the unmoving girl in the mirror and convinced herself to crawl into bed.