September 4

So I've told you I was seeing a doctor, he's a psychologist named Dr. Westin. He's been working with me for a couple weeks now. After his initial evaluation he decided to work with me daily in sessions at his office. Not only has he asked me to start this journal, but he's placed me on a medication called Celexa. He thinks the medication combined with therapy will help me get well sooner, I hope he's right.

I felt really ashamed when he suggested the medication. I knew it would embarrass my mother if it got around The Burg that her daughter was on an anti-depressant medication. It also wasn't something I wanted my friends to know about, but oddly enough the ones that have found out didn't seem to judge.

Lula, she works as Vinnie's file clerk, but spends most of her time as my wheel man, found my bottle of pills when she went into my purse after the extra McDonald's apple pie I had tossed in there. I finally admitted that I was seeing a doctor and was placed on the medication. She just told me it'd make me feel better. Apparently she was on some antidepressants after she was beaten and raped a few years ago. I felt better knowing I wasn't alone with the use of the pills, but what she'd been through had been so much worse than what I had experienced. I was still embarrassed by my weakness.

When I mentioned the stupid pills to Tank and Lester they just smiled at me. Tank and Lester both work for Ranger. They're big, strong, tough, ex-military men that still work in some of the most dangerous situations in the city. So when they told me that they had both been on similar medications at more than one point in their lives I felt a little bit better, but then Tank topped that by saying most of the guys that worked with them had been treated with the same medication, some more than once. He told me it wasn't weak, taking help was one of the strongest things I could do. He held me while he told me how proud he was of me. I think that finally made me feel like I wasn't as damaged as the pills originally made me feel.

As I mentioned, Tank and Lester work for Ranger. Ranger owns and serves as CEO of an elite security company called RangeMan. He employs a large number of well trained, well-conditioned, and well-built men. Most of them are ex-military, probably former Special Forces like Ranger himself. Anyway, they are all tough as nails. So like I said, hearing they weren't too tough for the meds convinced me to stick with them.

I took to calling Ranger's men the Merry Men years ago, which I guess would make him my Robin Hood, though I wouldn't tell him that. Oh God, that just made me laugh, maybe I should call him that. I often wonder how far I can push him before he ships me off to some third world country. Anyway, I digress again.

In the pack order of Merry Men, Tank is Ranger's Little John. He's his second in command and the man that he trusts with his company, his back, and often me. Tank's nickname is all too fitting, he's a huge man built much like a tank. While Lester is more his Will Scarlett, you know a lethal mercenary by trade, but a light-hearted lady's man to the rest of the world. He's the only one that constantly pushes Ranger's buttons, not really caring about the consequences. You get my point, the names work well for them, but as of right now, I'm am calling the two of them my support system, the good doctor says it's important to have a strong support system. I don't know if I could find stronger than the two of them.

There was a point to my rambling, I promise. A few weeks ago I was chasing one of my FTA's. He hopped into his car and took off with me on his tail. When he hit traffic he fled on foot, of course I got out of my car and followed him through traffic, running between stopped cars toward the Delaware River. As I got closer to the bridge I felt my heart start to race and by the time I stepped onto the bridge I wasn't able to breathe, the dizziness took over and I threw up. I stood frozen, shivering, and crying.

Tank and Lester found me there, they said it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours I was trapped there on top of that bridge, unable to move. They brought me back to my apartment, only because I refused to go to the hospital. I didn't want anyone to know I had a panic attack about crossing a bridge. That was stupid and I was embarrassed.

Later Tank told me that he and Lester took shifts sitting in my parking lot overnight, watching to make sure I was alright from a distance. I guess he hoped I'd reach out for help, but I didn't. In fact, the denial I'd been using to get by for the last month had crumbled down around me.

I couldn't answer my phone. I couldn't explain what was wrong to Joe, he'd never understand. I couldn't speak to Ranger. I knew if I heard his voice I would break more. I felt like I couldn't leave my bed. I couldn't risk my friends or my family seeing me as the broken person I was if I left the apartment, but the apartment itself wasn't safe either. I just kept reliving the moment that Ranger was shot in front of me.

After the sixth night in the parking lot Tank heard my screams. He busted into my apartment and found me screaming in my sleep. I'd had another of my recurring nightmares. He forced me to tell him what I'd been dreaming about. I started crying and didn't stop for about two hours, but he just held me and let me cry it out. When I was finally able to speak I told him about the dream.

The one that I had that night felt almost like a memory, not just a dream, but I knew it didn't happen the way I dreamt it. I was pulled from a trunk by faceless men, their voices were all a combination of people that have tried to kill me over the years. I was finally lifted over the railing of the bridge and tossed over the side. I immediately started to fall headfirst toward the rushing water of the river below me. I turned my body in the air and saw Ranger's face as he dove off the bridge toward me. He pulled me to the surface of the water and held me as he swam to the shore. As people pulled me from his arms I turned back to see him lying on the floor of my foyer. He was covered in his own blood, dying in front of my face. Hands were holding me back, not letting me go to him. I couldn't help him. Then I heard Morelli's voice telling me it was my own fault that Ranger died. If I wouldn't have been in constant danger I wouldn't have put him at risk either. It was my fault he died.

Tank held me against him once more and cursed a few words I'd never heard him speak before. That night he brought me back to his house and tucked me into his spare bed. He sat in a chair in the corner watching me sleep.

I spent the next week hiding in his spare bedroom, finding him holding me each time I woke from the nightmares. He finally convinced me to see a doctor friend of his. He said the doctor worked with all the guys at RangeMan after a difficult job or whenever they needed to work through something. I finally agreed to go, hoping I'd be able to end the nightmares and go back to my own home.

Now, two weeks into treatment, I'm still in Tank's spare bedroom. The nightmares aren't gone, but they aren't coming every time I sleep either. The doctor says tomorrow I should go out, see some of the people in my life like friends and family. I agreed to let Lester come with me and he agreed to bring me home as soon as I need to flee.

Wish me luck.