The Archivist’s Journal

Chapter 203: Day 202


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Day 202,

We just came back down from Siren Overlook, Cass and I.  We both needed it, I think.  Me because of last night being exceptionally bad and her because… well, I can’t speak for what all her stresses are but I’m pretty sure I added to them this morning.

As was all too often the case back when I hadn’t yet disciplined myself into (mostly) getting up early enough to have the classroom ready for children, I was still asleep when Cass arrived to unlock the archive.  According to her, she could hear me from halfway across the archive and when she found me I was crying out and thrashing around in bed with my sheets all thrown to the ground.  

The first thing I remember upon waking this morning is her grabbing me and shaking me awake.  She’d uncovered all the lights in the room before doing so and it felt blindingly bright.  I think I gave one last shout as I came to before it devolved into something like a sob.  The pain I’d felt in the nightmare was gone but it was taking time for my mind to catch up to that.  I tried to curl in on myself but she was in the way of my arms so they wound up wrapping around her instead.

She was saying something in my ear but I couldn’t understand it.  Only that it was loud.

So loud.

Softer now.

Still can’t understand.

Can’t focus.  Too busy fighting the panic.

Trying to convince myself I’m not dying.

My lungs aren’t failing and my throat’s not closing shut.  That’s just stress and fear making me hyperventilate and my throat tighten.

Need to slow down that breathing so I don’t make myself pass out.  Don’t send myself back to that place.

Can hyperventilation even do that?  Not sure.  Not going to find out.  Don’t think about that, just focus on slowing down.

I’m a little sore, yes, but it’s not the pain from that place.  That’s gone now.  Nothing like that.  My body isn’t broken.  See, my arms are straight and my fingers bend.  Curl my fingers.  Curl my toes.

Tense and release.

Tense.

And release.

But my head.  Just bumped it on the wall thrashing around.  It’s not fractured.  I’m not bleeding internally.  I didn’t give myself brain damage.  There probably won’t even be a bruise later.  Stop touching it to see if the skull’s shattered there.  It’s not.  Touching it over and over again will just keep it sore longer.  So stop already.

Cass is still saying something.  What is it?

Focus.

Close your eyes.  It’s okay.  You won’t go back there.

Good.

Breathe in.

No thoughts.

Breathe out.

Again.

Breathe in.

Clear everything out.

Focus on the here and now.

Let everything else fall away.

Breathe out.

Still now.

Open your eyes.

What’s she saying?

Repeating something.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Over and over.

Like a mantra.

It’s gonna be okay.

She’s trembling.  Voice and body.  Can tell now that you’ve mostly stopped.

I’ve scared her.  I’m scaring her.

So make her feel better.

Tighten embrace.  Proper hug.

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“Thanks.”

Relax grip.  Pat back.

“I’m okay now.”

Extend arms.  Give her space.  Distance.

See one another’s faces.

Her eyes are wide.

You’re the adult here.  Show confidence.  Stability.

Smile.  Keep it small.  Don’t look manic.  Reassuring.

“How about you?”

She nods.

Says of course she is, why wouldn’t she be.

Release.

Let her stand up straight instead of leaning over the bed to get to you.

Thank her again.

Start to stand up.

Too quick.  Dizzy.  Catch yourself.  There you go.

You’re fine.

Tell her that.

Wait, is that spot on her face red?

Did I hit her?

Ask her.

She says she doesn’t know what you’re talking about.  That it must just be the lighting.

Nice of her to say that.  I’m a monster.

No you're not.  If - IF - anything happened you weren’t even conscious for it.  Hardly culpable.

Silence has gone on too long.

Look abashed.  Make a comment about needing to change clothes.

Thank her again on her way out.

Alone again.

Still breathing harder and faster than normal.  But better.

Close your eyes one more time.  Breathe in.  Put last night out of mind.  Breathe out.  Open them.  Get dressed.  Step outside.  Find Cass.  Apologize for all that.  See that she’s still shook but trying to hide it.  Suggest a trip out to Siren Overlook before we get on with our day.

Why did I just do that to myself?  Cast my mind back to relive just a couple hours ago right after I’d started to feel better too.  Lose myself in a stream of consciousness frenziedly transcribing how I’ve chosen to remember the pain of waking.

You I know why, of course.  Part of it’s because I can’t bring myself to talk to anyone about it so this is the next best thing for processing and closure.  But the bigger part is I’m procrastinating.  Putting off doing actual work today.  Putting off talking to Pat.  Putting off describing last night’s nightmare of the Catacomb Depths.

Putting off thinking about what to do with Cass.

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened in front of her.  Maybe the worst, but not the first.  I worry I’m traumatizing the child just by being around her.  How long before she starts having a constant background stress of wondering if any given moment might be the one I break again?  Assuming she’s not there already.

The other day James brought up that we needed to talk about Cass’s schedule for dividing apprenticeship and helping with the farm in this dry season we’re heading into.  Maybe I should suggest that she take a break from the archive altogether.  At least for the season.  Until I get my head straight again.

I know the point of the apprenticeship is to teach her hard work, responsibility, and general adult-ness, and that’s why I’ve not felt worse about leaning on her as much as I do for the archival and teaching work.  But this?  That is not what this is.  There’s a difference between teaching someone a trade and relying on them to do their job versus putting a child in a position where they feel like they need to emotionally support an adult with their personal problems.

At the same time though, it doesn’t feel right to just go over Cass’s head straight to James and not give her a say in things.  Talk with her about it first?  Include her in the conversation maybe?

I don’t know.  Maybe I’ll talk to Pat or someone about it.

Tomorrow though.  Too tired for that kind of thing now.  For today, actual archive work.  The sort that I’ve been letting leaving Cass to do on her own while I write all this.

Time to go see if she’s found any books yet in need of repair/re-transcribing after wet season damp (or just straight up getting dropped in puddles).

 

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