He Called My Trauma an Excuse

I have severe social anxiety and PTSD.

For six years, my childhood best friend, Austin, took care of me. I became so dependent on him that I could barely function on my own.

Whenever we went out, I would cling to his arm like a shadow.

Our friends always teased us, saying we were closer than actual couples.

Even my parents had already decided that I would end up marrying Austin.

Until one day, during a routine therapy session, we met a new intern.

She claimed my condition wasn't psychological, but rather that I was simply spoiled by Austin.

She said if I wanted to be cured, we had to use extreme shock therapy to force us apart.

Austin believed her. He locked me in a pitch-black pantry.

By the third time he locked me in, Austin was no longer waiting at the door.

In a state of mental breakdown, I dragged myself to my neighbor's house and knocked on the door.

"Ethan..."

"I'll go... with you... to the clinic abroad..."

This weekend, Austin took me to my follow-up appointment.

My regular therapist was on leave for a week, so his intern was filling in.

She was a beautiful, radiant girl.

The moment I saw Hailey, I was instantly intimidated.

Compared to her sunny glow, I felt like a gloomy, washed-out shadow.

So, when I saw Austin freeze, staring at her for a full five seconds, my entire body went cold.

A sharp, painful mix of jealousy and insecurity flared up in my chest.

Back in sophomore year of high school, because I was too close to Austin, a group of toxic girls targeted me.

They locked me in an abandoned basement locker room for a whole weekend.

When the teachers and classmates finally found me, I had just managed to tear off the duct tape. I was so dehydrated that I was desperately drinking rusty water leaking from the pipes.

Along with pity, I saw nothing but disgust and horror in their eyes.

After that, I dropped out of school.

The day after I left, Austin rushed back from summer camp.

He begged his influential family to pressure the school board and the police. They pressed charges against the bullies and got them all expelled.

But I was left with severe social anxietyspecifically, selective mutism and PTSD.

To be precise, it was a moderate form of social processing disorder.

But I preferred the term "social anxiety" over "disordered."

Because before that weekend, I used to be a normal, happy girl.

Once Austin realized what had happened, he was consumed by guilt.

"Chloe, if only I hadn't gone to that summer camp... If I had been there, they would never have hurt you..."

He collapsed by my hospital bed, tears streaming down his face.

I desperately wanted to comfort him, but the words choked in my throat. I could only squeeze out a few broken syllables.

"No... no..."

That only made Austin cry harder.

Later, he promised he would take care of me forever.

And he did. For six years.

Even after Austin graduated from college, I still couldn't study or communicate normally.

For those six years, I stayed by his side.

When he was home, I was there.

When he went out, I waited for him.

Whenever he went to parties, he brought me along.

Austin kept his word. He truly protected me.

Our friends often joked that they had never seen a guy so devoted, urging us to just get married already.

Every time, Austin would laugh it off with a smile.

"Yeah, definitely. When we get married, you're all invited!"

Austin would drain his glass, his cheeks slightly flushed, looking at me with absolute tenderness.

I would keep my head down, my heart hammering like crazy, a small smile playing on my lips.

We were childhood sweethearts.

Our families adored each other.

It felt like destiny. We were meant to be.

Even I believed I would eventually marry him.

On countless nights, I would lie awake practicing how to say "I do" loudly, clearly, and perfectly, just in case he asked.

But today, even after writing down my prescription, Austin couldn't take his eyes off Hailey.

Hailey kept a professional, sweet smile on her face.

"Chloe, how is your speech progression doing?"

It took me three seconds to process her question. I swallowed hard and forced the words out.

"Can... speak... a bit. Can... communicate."

For some reason, speaking in front of Hailey felt exceptionally draining.

Hailey nodded, then turned her gaze to Austin.

"I need to speak with the... family member? Alone for a moment."

Austin's breath hitched, and he quickly clarified, "Oh, I'm just Chloe's friend. Not family."

I froze.

Austin seemed to realize what he had said and stiffened.

He looked at me quickly, as if suddenly snapping back to reality.

"Chloe... I didn't mean it like that. Why don't you wait outside for a bit? I'll just talk to Hailey."

My lips parted, but nothing came out. I silently stood up and walked out.

Maybe it was just my anxiety, but a cold dread began to pool in my stomach.

When I shut the clinic door, I left a tiny crack open.

"I looked over Chloe's chart. This has been going on for years, right? As her friend, it must be incredibly exhausting for you," Hailey said, her voice soft and coaxing.

Austin was silent for a moment.

"It can be tough. But Chloe is doing her best to get better."

"I know. My advisor told me about her case."

Hailey scribbled something on her notepad.

"I just finished my residency abroad, and honestly, there's a highly effective way to cure this."

"Her condition isn't physical, so medication won't work. You need to use extreme immersion therapy to shock her system. It's a popular method in Europe. Once it works, Chloe will snap back to her old self."

Austin sounded confused.

"What do you mean?"

Standing outside, my mind went numb.

Only a few words filtered through the crack.

Hailey was saying that I was too dependent on Austin.

To put it bluntly, she claimed Austin was spoiling me.

Because he catered to my every need and never left my side, I had built a comfortable cage for myself.

She claimed I was staying silent on purpose because I didn't want to leave my comfort zone.

She thought I was faking it.

I waited for Austin to defend me.

He knew me better than anyone. We spent every single day together.

How could he possibly think I was faking?

But he remained silent for a long time.

Until finally, I heard Austin agree to Hailey's extreme shock therapy.

A seventy percent success rate.

It was simple: lock me in a dark room, simulate the environment of my original trauma, and force me to find my own way out.

On the drive home, Austin didn't say a word.

He didn't ask how I was feeling like he usually did. Instead, he asked, "Chloe, do you want to get better?"

"Once you're cured, you can go back to school, make friends, and live your own life."

Listening to his voice, my mind began to drift, unable to grasp the weight of his words.

I didn't answer, and Austin didn't press.

Over the next few days, he stopped giving me my anxiety medication.

No, it wasn't his idea. It was Hailey's.

I panicked. Without the medication to stabilize my nervous system, my chest felt like it was constantly being crushed.

For the first time, I actively begged him for help.

"Au... Austin... My... my pills..."

Austin's eyes lit up instantly.

"Chloe! You're expressing your needs! Hailey was right!"

Ignoring my pale, trembling face, Austin excitedly grabbed his phone and called Hailey.

He was eager to report my progress and ask what to do next.

I collapsed onto the living room floor, struggling to breathe.

I lay there, listening to Austin talk to Hailey on the balcony for two hours.

At first, they talked about my symptoms.

But soon, the conversation drifted. He asked her what she had for dinner, what her weekend plans were, and what hobbies she liked.

Then came the invitation to dinner as a "thank you."

Hearing his lighthearted laughter, a single tear slipped down my face.

My mind went numb, and the panic slowly subsided into cold exhaustion. I managed to drag myself off the floor and went to my room.

The next day, Austin told me he was taking me back to my parents' house.

When we arrived, I saw that the old storage room in the basement had been completely cleared out.

My parents weren't home; they were away on a business trip for a week.

They trusted Austin completely.

Nobody ever imagined Austin would do anything to hurt me.

But now, he was grabbing my wrists, dragging me toward the windowless, dark storage room.

"No... no!"

"Austin! Please!"

I sobbed, tears blurring my vision as raw terror gripped my soul.

I hadn't been this terrified in years.

A flash of hesitation crossed Austin's face. He looked like he was realizing how cruel this was.

Just as he hesitated, his phone rang. It was Hailey.

"Austin, remember, this is for Chloe's own good."

"You don't want her to be a burden on you forever, do you? You have to let her go so she can be normal."

Her voice drifted through the speaker. I gasped for air, looking at Austin imploringly.

"Don't... don't listen to her! I'm... I'm scared..."

Austin bit his lip, torn.

Hailey's voice came through again.

"Austin, hurry up. Our dinner reservation is in half an hour."

The next second, Austin let out a heavy sigh.

He pushed me forward. I stumbled and fell onto the hard floor.

The heavy door slammed shut.

The room went pitch black. The darkness swallowed me whole, amplifying the sound of my ragged breathing and heartbeat.

My ears buzzed, and my head spun. I crawled on my hands and knees toward the door.

It was locked from the outside.

I banged on the door, sobbing and screaming in broken fragments.

"Don't... don't go... I'm scared... so scared..."

Austin's footsteps paused outside.

"Chloe, just one hour. I'll be back in an hour. Don't worry, I'm right here."

And then, his footsteps faded away.

*I'm right here.*

Over the past six years, Austin had said those words to soothe my anxiety a thousand times.

And every time, he had stayed.

But not this time. He left.

I screamed until my throat was raw. My body heat plunged. There was no clock, so I could only wait in the suffocating dark.

When Austin finally opened the door, two hours had passed.

He rushed in and found me huddled in the corner, staring blankly into space.

Behind him, Hailey stood with her arms crossed, her chin tilted up.

There was nothing but annoyance in her eyes.

I was in terrible shape, and a panicked Austin tried to pull me into his arms.

"Okay, it's over. Don't cry, I'm here."

A wave of nausea hit me. For the first time in my life, I pushed him away.

I stood up and bolted for the bathroom, throwing up.

Austin tried to follow me, but Hailey blocked him.

"Austin, look! The therapy is working. Did you see that? It's the first time she didn't cling to you after a panic attack."

Austin froze.

She was right.

Despite the intense trigger, I hadn't curled up in his arms and cried.

Instead, I had walked away on my own.

This realization brought Austin a mix of relief and a strange, unreadable frustration.

When I came out of the bathroom, Hailey was gone.

Looking at Austin's concerned face, I couldn't bring myself to say a single word.

All I felt was a cold, unfamiliar revulsion.

Austin didn't take me back to his apartment. He told me to stay at my parents' house.

He said there were three sessions in total.

If I could just endure two more, I would finally be free.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight.

Tears spilled over my cheeks.

"Why... why do you... believe her...?"

Austin was stunned. Realizing I was talking about Hailey, a soft smile crept onto his face.

"Hailey is brilliant, Chloe. Her therapy is actually working, can't you see? Today, you actually managed to... and she's just..."

He rambled on and on.

Admiration, affection, respect, trust.

In that moment, I understood everything.

The next day, before locking me in the storage room again, Austin said gently, "Don't worry. I promise I'll be right here when you go in, and I'll be right here when you come out. So don't be scared."

My ears buzzed.

The thin, musty air in the room made it hard to breathe.

This time, I waited for three hours.

Austin and Hailey had gone to an amusement park.

When they opened the door, they were wearing matching couple's wristbands.

Noticing my eyes darting to his wrist, Austin awkwardly slipped the band off.

"Chloe, just one more time. The last one."

I had gone completely numb.

Was this really making me better?

But ever since he stopped my medication and started locking me up, I had lost all color in my face.

I was terrified of bright lights. I couldn't sleep, and my hair was falling out in clumps.

My chest felt like it was constantly filled with lead.

But Austin didn't notice. He didn't notice any of it.

Because every single night, he was on the phone with Hailey.

He had stopped looking at me altogether.

On the third session, he gave me the exact same promise: he would be right back.

But he wasn't.

This time, I waited for five hours.

I massaged my numb legs.

Then, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the spare key I had hidden there beforehand.

I unlocked the door.

The sudden light blinded me for a second.

The house was empty. Austin had taken my phone with him.

I dragged my feet slowly across the floor.

Every step required a massive intake of air.

Finally, I stood in front of my neighbor's door and knocked.

A tall figure opened the door almost immediately.

He looked shocked.

"Chloe? What are you doing here? Oh my god, what happened to you? You look so pale!"

I was stunned.

Even in my current state, Ethan recognized me instantly.

I swallowed hard, grabbed his forearm with trembling fingers, and whispered, "Ethan... help me... buy a ticket..."

"I want... to go... abroad... for treatment... with you."

Once the words left my mouth, I felt a weight lift from my chest.

I thought of Austin's face.

And I knew.

Once I left, I was never coming back.