Anxiety

[o8]

*authors note*

Why hello there my little shits! I missed you so much!

I hope you like this chapter! GIVE ME COMMENTS!!!! Please (:
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*two weeks later*

We were finally going to see the pack doctor, Dr. Graham, for our first therapy session today. She was really busy with normal check-up appointments that the next time she was free was two weeks later, so we made an appointment with her as soon as she was available. She also made us fill out worksheets about what our goals for therapy were, and what we wanted the outcome to be.

"I need all three of you to fill out your own worksheet, with no collaboration from each other. I need to see where you are all starting at," she had explained.

I had filled mine out immediately, and then obsessed over it for the next two weeks, wondering if I had written down the correct thing, and wondering what Grey and Ryker had written down. Did they only want to work on their own issues, or did they want to work on our issues as a relationship? Did they even fill out the worksheet? We should have worked on it together, it's not like she could have figured out that we did collaborate if we don't tell her.

No, that's cheating. I can't start off therapy by cheating on a stupid worksheet.

It also didn't help that Jordan and Tyler wouldn't tell me what was on Grey's and Ryker's sheets. The doctor had somehow gotten to them and told them not to help me, that it would be good for my anxiety to not be in control for once.

She didn't say that, I'm just assuming that's something that she would say. But she did tell them not to help me with the worksheet in any way. So I was truly on my own for this.

I had settled on writing my personal goals that I wanted out of therapy, as well as a few things I wanted the boys to work on. I wanted to be able to forgive him for what he did to me, and not have a panic attack whenever I think of him or whenever my boys do something that he tried to tarnish, like the hand squeezes or counting me down from a panic attack, or kisses to my knees, or just touching my fucking hair. I wanted the boys to include me in their talks about the pack or any danger that could be coming our way, and not treat me like I'm a delicate dish; that I'm stronger for what I went through, not weaker.

But sitting in front of her, with my boys to my sides, I wasn't sure if I wrote the correct thing. I was able to sneak a glance at Ryker's paper and saw that he had written quite a bit, but he turned it away from me before I could read anything. Grey's paper was neatly folded and he was gripping it very harshly. My paper had been folded and unfolded so many times, and it was crinkled from where I was gripping it very hard. My knee was bouncing incessantly, and my heart was going to leap out of my chest.

"Thank you, guys, for being patient and waiting two weeks, I really appreciate it. Did you all fill out the worksheets that I gave you?" We all nodded our heads, and my grip tightened on the paper, the crinkle echoing in the office.

"and no collaboration, right?" We nodded again, our voices stuck in our throats for some reason.

"Okay, before we get started, let's all just place our papers down on the floor, and take some deep breaths. I know that you're nervous, but this is a safe space. Nothing that is said here will be repeated outside of these walls, and it stays between us. Okay?" She made sure that she looked into our eyes to get our confirmation. We all placed our papers on the ground, and took deep breaths with her.

With each deep breath, the tightness in my chest disappeared; my knee slowly stopped bouncing; I unclenched my fists and smoothed my sweaty hands down my thighs.