Page 33 of Dark Therapy
But the memory of his words lingered, a siren call that beckoned me closer. I couldn’t ignore what he had said—how his obsession consumed him, how he would go to unimaginable lengths to protect what he claimed as his. Was I just another conquest for him, or..orwhatAmelia? I think I’m losing my mind.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk, my fingers tangled in my hair as I struggled to ground myself in reality. I needed to focus on my patients, to push thoughts of Damien aside. But as I glanced at the notes in front of me, the wordsdanced mockingly on the page, reminding me of the emotional turmoil he had stirred.
As I stared at the page before me, my thoughts spiraled back to Damien, and I couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that had taken root in my mind. Could I really help him? The very notion felt absurd. He was a man consumed by obsession, a darkness that clung to him like a second skin. And yet, in the midst of that chaos, I found myself inexplicablyaffectedby him, ensnared by the tension that crackled between us.
It was as if the universe had conspired to create a perfect storm—his obsession with me, my own unwitting attraction to him. It feltwrong, a betrayal of everything I stood for as a psychologist. I had spent years dedicated to understanding trauma, to guiding others through their pain, and yet here I was, grappling with the idea that I might be more drawn to his darkness than I cared to admit.
I pushed the papers aside, frustration bubbling to the surface. I had to find a way to separate my personal feelings from my professional responsibilities. But the more I tried to compartmentalize, the more those boundaries blurred. Damien was no ordinary patient; he was a walking enigma, and everyencounter with him unraveled the carefully woven tapestry of my life.
In our sessions, I had seen glimpses of the vulnerability that lay beneath his surface, but those moments were fleeting, overshadowed by his possessive nature. He wasn’t just seeking help—he wasclaimingme, entwining our fates in a way that felt predatory and thrilling all at once. How could I be the one to guide him through his torment when I was struggling with my own emotions?
The realization struck me like a cold wave: this wasn’t going to work. I could try to maintain my composure, to wield my knowledge and expertise like a shield, but the truth was undeniable. Damien’s obsession with me complicated everything. Each session left me questioning my own stability, my ability to remain impartial. How could I possibly help him confront his demons when I was barely holding onto my own?
A deep sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back in my chair, feeling the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. I closed my eyes again, attempting to find clarity in the chaos, but all I could see were flashes of his intense gaze, the way he watched me as if I were the only thing that mattered in the world. Thedepth of his fixationterrifiedme, and yet a part of me was drawn to the power it seemed to hold.
Could I turn him away? Would I be able to stand firm in the face of his darkness and insist that he seek help elsewhere? The thought made my heart race. What if that only fueled his obsession further? The very idea of pushing him away sent a shiver down my spine. He was dangerous, and I knew all too well the lengths he would go to protect what he believed was his.
But as I sat in my office, surrounded by reminders of my purpose, I had to remind myself of the reality I faced. This wasn’t just about me or my discomfort. It was about a man who neededhelp—help I wasn’t sure I was equipped to provide.
I pushed myself up from the chair and made my way to the door, my mind made up. I needed clarity, and there was only one person who could provide it—the one person I trusted to guide me through this tumultuous storm.
I grabbed my bag and stepped into the hallway, feeling the cool air wash over me as I walked toward the exit. Each step felt heavier than the last, a reminder of the emotional weight Icarried. I couldn’t ignore the unease that had settled deep within me, the way Damien’s presence lingered like an echo in my mind. I had to confront it, to untangle the web of feelings he had spun around me.
The bustling streets of the city awaited me outside, but my destination was clear. Professor Sarah Mitchell had always been a steadying force in my life, a beacon of wisdom amidst the chaos. I could already imagine her thoughtful gaze, the way she would listen intently before offering her insights. She had seen me through the darkest moments of my journey, and I needed her guidance more than ever.
I arrived at the university campus, my heart racing as I made my way to her office. The familiar building stood tall and imposing, filled with memories of late-night study sessions and heated discussions about psychology and ethics. I climbed the stairs, each step echoing my growing resolve.
When I reached her office door, I hesitated for a moment, anxiety swirling in my stomach. But I couldn’t back down now. I knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. Moments later, I heard a soft voice call out, “Come in.”
I opened the door to find her seated at her desk, surrounded by books and papers, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up, her expression shifting from surprise to warmth as she gestured for me to enter.
“Amelia! It’s good to see you!” Her voice was soothing, an anchor in the tumult of my emotions. “What brings you here?”
“Thank you for seeing me, Professor,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I really need your advice.”
As I settled into the chair opposite her, I noticed the way her eyes lingered on my face. “You look tired,” she said, her tone shifting to one of concern. “Have you been getting enough rest?”
I hesitated, the weight of my restless nights hanging heavily in the air. “I’ve been having a hard time since I started seeing one of my patients,” I admitted. “His case is… complicated. It’s like I can’t turn off my mind, and the nightmares keep coming.”
Sarah’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Nightmares can be a powerful reflection of our subconscious. What kind of dreams are you having?”
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “They started off as horrifying, filled with memories I’d rather forget. Flashbacks of my past that I thought I’d buried. But they’ve shifted into something else—there are moments of pleasure intertwined with the fear, and it’sconfusing. It feels like I’m trapped in a cycle.”
Sarah nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “That sounds distressing. Your connection with him is triggering these memories.”
I nodded, the realization striking me harder than I anticipated. “There’s an intensity to our sessions that I didn’t expect. He’s obsessed with me, and… I can’t deny how affected I feel by him. Itscaresme.”
“Obsession can be a potent force,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “It can create a sense of safety and danger simultaneously. You need to navigate this carefully. How do you feel when you’re with him?”
“Part of me is fascinated by him,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Hechallengesme, makes me question everything I know about myself. But there’s also a part of me that feelstrapped, overwhelmed by his intensity. It’s like I’mwalking a tightrope, and one misstep could send me tumbling into chaos.”
Sarah leaned forward, her expression serious. “Amelia, it’s essential to maintain your professional distance, even if you feel drawn to him. You need to protect yourself emotionally and psychologically. Allowing those feelings to blur the lines could lead to complications.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing my temples as frustration washed over me. “But how can I help him if I keep my distance? I want to support him, but his obsession with me complicates everything.”
“Helping someone doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice yourself,” Sarah reiterated gently. “You have to remember that you are not just a vessel for others’ healing. Your well-being is just as important, and right now, it sounds like the situation with him is too entangled for you to manage effectively.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. “Are you saying I should stop seeing him?”