The whole most recent chapter of "Damsel in the Red Dress" was me trying to make the experience of Alicia's depression and anxiety something the readers could feel. It's very emotional, but it's also a very clear look into her head, which i love:
I find myself sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with my head in both hands, rocking for no reason as I try to make myself focus or think.
But I canāt talk to him.
The more I try to solve the enigma - cure my empty spaces - conjure the missing piece to my broken ending the more the answers slip away from me.
I just need to wrap up a stupid lesson.
But I canāt talk to the people Iāve known for a decade without feeling like Iām doing everything wrong. How am I supposed to teach strangers?
Iām hopeless.
āNow at the end of our course togetherā¦ā
No, that's not how it should goā¦
āAs we reach the endā¦ā
My mind begins playing āI Did It My Wayā by Frank Sinatra and senseless rambles about the final curtain.
Iām panicking.
Itās not right! Itās not right!
It has to be perfect! Itās never perfect!
I bite my thumb and stare at my laptop on the paint-splattered carpet in front of me, all a mess of reds and yellows, like a whiny baby felt the need to overturn their dinner - throw it everywhere.
My mind melts a little more, and I think of Melissa and the way she talked about her husband and her son - wondering why it all feels so foreign.
Thereās nothing. Nothing left. No answers. No time.
Why did I ever think I could do this?
Why did I ever think I could survive this time better than the last time? That I wouldnāt shatter and fall apart and lose my mind like the last time?
Think having a relationship with Kattar would go better than the last time-
-I tried to live and convince myself I was loved.