I sink into the familiar leather couch across from Dr. Shoofy's chair. She peers at me over her cat-eye glasses and asks how I've been feeling since our last session.

"Honestly, not great," I admit. "I've been exhausted all the time lately, like I can't stay awake no matter how much I sleep."

She frowns, jotting notes on her legal pad. "How long has the excessive fatigue been going on?"

I think back. "Maybe a couple months? It comes and goes in waves." I hesitate before opening up more.

"It's weird but sometimes I almost feel this uncontrollable urge to nap, even at inappropriate times. Like I'll be in class and suddenly get dizzy and start drifting off. It's kind of scary."

Dr. Shoofy asks more questions, trying to pinpoint any lifestyle factors or medication changes. But there's been nothing I can identify as the catalyst.

"Sean, I wonder if we should explore whether trauma could be a root cause here," she says gently. My body tenses up.

"I know we haven't talked much yet about your last relationship and the abuse. But experiences like that can deeply impact the psyche and manifest physically in ways we might not expect."

I shift uncomfortably, the familiar ache in my chest flaring up at the mention of my ex. Tao seemed so cool and confident when we first met. I was flattered a hot older girl was interested in an awkward gamer like me.

The first time she lashed out and slapped me, she sobbed after about her childhood trauma and promised she'd never do it again. Like an idiot, I believed her.

But the cycles of violence, manipulation and gaslighting only escalated from there until I was a shell of myself, afraid to go against her in any way. It took me way too long to break the trauma bond and get out.

"You might be right," I mumble to Dr. Shoofy. As much as I've tried to suppress those painful memories, the body doesn't forget.

We talk about healing strategies and self-care habits I can pick up to deal with the lingering effects of PTSD and depression. It's hard work, but for the first time in a while, I feel a flicker of hope I can get my life back.

Leaving her office, I notice the golden afternoon sunlight doesn't make me want to crawl back into bed and hide from the world. Baby steps, I remind myself. If I keep putting one foot in front of the other, someday I'll get to where I want to be.