Doctor Valencia wakes me by opening the curtains and letting light flood in. I’m still curled into a ball, and my eyes feel puffy. I’ve only left bed to go to the toilet and not much else. The pillow is wet from tears and snot. And I’m still naked. Dr. Valencia goes to my drawer, fishes out a t-shirt, and tosses it to me.
“Now, from what I heard from your brother Daniel, you had a reminder of your past trauma last night,” she says as I pull the shirt over me. My arms are heavy, and I struggle with the simple task. “You want to talk about it?”
I slightly shake my head.
“You should!”
I shake my head again.
“Your brother confirmed my suspicion that you never had time to grieve your family; neither of you did. He didn’t tell me much, but at least he is open to speaking with someone about
