Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

December 7th, 

Armand emailed me prior to our session to let me know that Daniel had agreed to attend with him, that he was going to join our upcoming session. I would’ve preferred to have a session in between to prepare both myself and Armand for adding another person into the mix (especially Daniel fucking Molloy!) but I’ll have to find a way to make it work regardless. I asked Armand if he would be okay with having a half hour alone, which would still leave us with ample time seeing as he prefers to have 90 minute sessions. It’s important to go over what he is and isn’t comfortable with me disclosing to Daniel so we can strategize on how to approach the conversation and I can figure out how to best support Armand. I want him to feel in control, but I also want Daniel to feel included. I’m gonna be so fucking real––I hate couples work and family therapy because the balance is so hard . If you’re not careful you fall into taking sides and getting stuck in the dysfunction–– especially if it hits some of your triggers. I really have my work cut out for me. I’m really dreading this to be honest… more than I want to admit. My fear of someone like Daniel is greater than my faith in my ability to navigate the complex nature of his and Armand’s relationship. Whether or not Daniel takes me/ the process seriously has nothing to do with my skill as a therapist… It's frustrating that I’m getting hung up on this. There’s a lot of plates to spin with this case in particular.

 

In preparation, between the last session and our next one (on my supervisor’s urging) I asked Armand to fill out the Dissociative Experiences Scale (DES). A score above a 30 is considered indicative of a potential dissociative disorder. The average score of someone with DID is around 48, Armand scored a 62. While this scale isn’t a definitive means of diagnosis, it shows that Armand has clinically significant levels of dissociation consistent with DID. I can’t make an official diagnosis without administering the Structured Clinical Interview for Dissociative Disorders (and I wouldn’t administer it if Armand is against it), but I can make a preliminary diagnosis of highly probable DID. I admit that I was surprised that he agreed to fill out the DES outside of therapy… but I suspect that maybe part of him wants to know for himself that what he’s experiencing is real. I think he wants to be validated. The other part of me can’t help but feel Armand only filled it out to appease me…

 

 Eventually I’d like to go over the Autism Quotient and the Ritvo Autism Scale with him. But I don’t want to overwhelm him with assessments and pathologizing. I think he already feels scrutinized enough. Again, I would only do it if he was open to it and wanted to pursue a diagnosis. The reason I’m thinking about this is because I feel the framework of diagnosis would be incredibly helpful when talking to Daniel. It’s obvious, without an assessment, that Armand has C-PTSD–– I would honestly be shocked if someone with Armand’s history didn’t have PTSD. I think Daniel knows that too, but it’s the other behavioral, cognitive, and psychological presentations that he needs help understanding. Without a diagnosis or Armand’s willingness to disclose these possibilities, it will be difficult to get Daniel to be understanding. People are (typically) more understanding when there is an explanation or an answer. I hope Armand consents to me sharing his dissociative episodes and (very likely) autism with Daniel. It would certainly make things easier. At least Armand agreed to having a half hour one on one. Fingers crossed he’s open to disclosing. 

PRESENTING INFORMATION/ HISTORY/ CONTEXT

CLIENT: Armand (and Daniel)

DATE/TIME: December 12, 7– 8:30 pm

MATERIALS: None

SETTING: individual session, session 8

BACKGROUND: See session 1, 3, 5, and 6 notes. 

OBSERVATION AND DESCRIPTION OF THE SESSION

As I opened the door to the studio space, I could see Armand sitting in the waiting room, his hand held gently in Daniel’s. Both men sat quietly, though there were clear signs of anxiety mounting in each of them. Armand, with his eerie stillness yet intermittent stimming, seemed like he was trying to suppress his nerves and failing. Daniel on the other hand appeared less inhibited, bouncing his leg in anticipation, but looking far less tense than his partner. Armand rubbed his thumb along the back of Daniel’s hand, in what would appear to be a soothing gesture, but it was more in an effort to self–soothe than it was to reassure Daniel. I observed them briefly, trying to get a better feel for their relationship in the few moments before session began. 

Despite Armand’s descriptions of their recent volatility, they were surprisingly soft with each other, clearly comfortable in silence–– though that speaks more to Armand’s psychology and history than it does to Daniel or their dynamic. Armand leaned his head to rest on Daniel’s shoulder, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as his partner kissed the top of his head. Daniel whispered something to him, which prompted a small smile from Armand. He lifted his head from Daniel’s shoulder and proceeded to kiss him on the cheek before resting his forehead against the other man’s temple. They leaned into each other briefly before slowly drifting apart, settling into something less intimate as the time to began drew closer. 

I noticed that Armand wasn’t wearing Daniel’s jacket this week, rather it had returned to his rightful owner. Instead, Armand wore a dark trench coat with a black and red scarf draped around his neck, but not wrapped around it–– it was left hanging open in two tails on either side of his jacket lapels. I’ve noticed, even in the cold weather, his neck is almost always exposed (save for when he wears a turtleneck). He was back to wearing western fashion, more aesthetically European, though his scarf had traditional South Asian style embroidery. He fidgeted with the raw edge of the fabric before I called out to greet him. When I did, he looked startled for the briefest of moments before settling back into himself.

I tried to make myself as warm, open, and nonthreatening as possible as I greeted Armand and Daniel. I made sure to speak clearly, yet still keep a soft tone, trying to project a safe and welcoming environment–– not only for Armand, but Daniel as well. The reactions from both men were very telling. Daniel was quick to distance himself from Armand, attempting to make their proximity seem less intimate, less vulnerable. Whereas Armand appeared to fear letting Daniel go. He continued to hold onto him, even as the older man had put a bit of space between them. Daniel appeared uncomfortable by their closeness being witnessed, while Armand appeared hurt by his partner’s insecurity.

I introduced myself to Daniel, who promptly gave me a very firm handshake–– which I made sure to reciprocate. I wanted to ease the tension, so I tried to inject some levity as I gave a rough outline of the night.

“I hope you don’t mind if I borrow him for a bit,” I said to Daniel, referring to Armand. 

He eyed me skeptically over his tinted glasses. He was clearly assessing me, but I don’t know what conclusion he came to.

“I want to have ample time to focus on both of you–– I just need to check in with Armand for a bit first and then we can come back together.”

“That how it normally works?” Daniel cocked an eyebrow. “You get in his head and hear his side before I get my piece? Gang up on me?” He dead panned.

“Beloved…” Armand’s voice was low, almost like a warning.

Daniel cracked a smile, a small laugh escaping into the room.

“I’m just messing with you!” He looked at Armand, apologetic, though reluctantly so. “I’m sorry… I’m a little on edge,” he exhaled. “I know how this works––”

Daniel cut himself off, his face changing from amused to guilty as Armand looked at him with an almost unreadable expression. It appeared to be something akin to disappointment. I laughed along with Daniel to try to ease his nerves, but gave Armand a sympathetic look, smiling softly at him.

“First meetings always feel a little tense, a little awkward,” I reassured. “Normally I would have a session with just Armand before you joined the mix, Daniel, but sometimes things pan out a bit different then we plan. I’m glad you’re joining though.” I looked back at Armand. “I think maybe you are too?”

“Yes, I am grateful that Daniel was amenable,” Armand nodded. “I think there is much to discuss.”

His hold on Daniel’s hand tightened ever so slightly, the thumb grazing the back of the older man’s hand stroked slowly back and forth.

“Well,” Daniel squeezed back. “With you there’s plenty to dig into, whether you like it or not,” Daniel said, almost like it was a dig at Armand’s tendency to withhold. “But it seems like you’ve been in pretty good hands… I’ll just catch up on some work stuff while you do whatever you gotta do,” he recovered, looking directly at me instead of Armand.

With a final squeeze of Daniel’s hand, Armand nodded and followed me into the office-studio. He stood awkwardly in the entryway for a moment after he closed the door behind him, swaying slightly as he rubbed his thumbs over his knuckles. I invited him to sit if he wanted to, but left the option open for him to stand or move if he needed to expel some nerves. He remained uncertain, noticeably chewing one of his cheeks before he took a deep inhale and sat across from me on the couch he’d ignored every session prior. He sat in silence, limbs drawn in close, as if he was trying to hold himself together.

“You’re having a hard time with Daniel being here, aren’t you?” I offered my observation. “You’re uncomfortable… maybe a little scared.”

Armand tightened his fingers into fists once again, thumbs pressing deep into his knuckles. I could see the skin pale. He nodded.

“Yes,” his voice was so quiet it was difficult to understand him.

I assured him that what he was feeling was normal, that being vulnerable with the people we’re closest to is often harder because it feels like there’s so much more at stake. He looked up at me, eyes wide. He seemed lost, slightly regressed even, reverting back to a younger state. 

“I’m worried he won’t like what he discovers… that he will be disgusted and angry with me, that––”

“He’ll leave?” I offered.

“I want to run,” he confessed. “I want to hide in fantasy and pretend everything is fine, but–– but I have already offered up some of my truths to him… and what he found was horrific. I would not blame him if he left me after what I told him… what Arun wanted me to tell him.”

I asked what it was that Arun disclosed, what that version of himself needed to tell Daniel. Armand closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, lip quivering in what could be anxiety, sadness, or maybe even restraining his regret and shame.

“He made me tell Daniel his truth… Our–– our truth. I wounded him deeply, Daniel I mean, by sharing Arun’s pain, his shame and fear. Now Daniel knows that the child inside of me is afraid of him, of me, of my desire for intimacy with him. I told Daniel that every sexual encounter I’ve had, that I’ve enjoyed, are experienced as rape by Arun. That sex with Daniel is felt as such by the child I hardly remember being, the one who feels so apart from me,” Armand’s eyes became glassy with emotion. “But Daniel could not understand that I do not feel that way… he viewed Arun’s feelings as more important, felt they mattered more than mine. I made him feel like a monster for loving me.” 

I let his confession settle for a moment, giving him space to become wholly emotional if he needed to, yet no expression came. Nothing shifted other than the timbre of his voice.

“Firstly, I want to acknowledge how difficult and distressing that must have been–– both for you and Arun, for Daniel too,” I softened my expression. “Second, I wonder how you would feel if the roles were reversed? If Daniel came to you and told you that part of him felt violated by your intimacy?”

“I don’t know…” Armand’s face reverted to being blank. “I’m not sure I even understand my own feelings, my own experience. My idea, Amadeo’s idea, Arun’s idea of love, devotion, and intimacy are all so different–– different from each other as well as Daniel’s understanding. I’m not sure how I would feel because all love I have experienced has felt, at one time or another, volatile, forceful–– whether as the recipient of that love or as the one pursuing it… I don’t know if I would be horrified if Daniel confessed something like this to me. I don’t know if I would sympathize or pity him… I feel that maybe I would be indifferent, which would wound Daniel deeply.”

“And that self-knowledge makes you feel ashamed.” I named it because it appeared Armand could not.

He hesitated for a moment.

“Indescribably,” was all he said, but in its simplicity, the statement spoke volumes.

“I think maybe Daniel does as well––feel ashamed that he doesn’t know how to navigate your relationship with your trauma as it manifests in your dynamic as a couple. That’s why he’s here, isn’t it? To learn how to read the map so to speak? To figure out that journey together?”

“Perhaps you are right. I don’t know how to navigate this either,” he frowned. “I don’t know how to do this, how to be honest with him, to share those wounded parts of myself. I’m terrified of the possibility of Arun or Amadeo taking control and ruining what we have built, destroying the foundation by making choices without me.”

“That is terrifying, to not feel in control of yourself,” I validated. I paused for a moment as I transitioned into discussing what I saw as being related to his train of thought, the upcoming joint session, and the discoveries we’ve made recently. “And of course it’s something neither of you know how to navigate–– what you’ve gone through isn’t a typical experience, so it makes sense that neither you nor Daniel would know how to handle the after effects of trauma. You’ve experienced, as you’ve said, some horrible things. And Daniel doesn’t live in your head so he won’t ever truly understand how and what you’re feeling–– but maybe we can help him empathize, help him understand the why and how versus focusing on the what.”

Armand looked at me with apparent skepticism before the tension fell from his face, replaced by a slight frown. I asked if he wanted to know why he might be experiencing those feelings of incongruity he’d been describing, if he was at all curious to understand how and why it was impacting his relationship with Daniel and the actions he took. He brought his hand to his bicep and began to massage the muscle in an effort to self-soothe.

“Is that why you had me fill out that tedious assessment?” His eyes were trained on the floor.

“In part, yes. I thought that perhaps the results might be useful in helping Daniel better understand what you’re going through–– better understand you .”

“And what do you understand about me?” His tone was accusatory, disbelieving. “What does a scale say about me, my psyche, my life? How could a series of carefully worded inquiries help Daniel know the complexities I hold? Do you now have a category to sort me into, one that proves how insane I am, how broken? Am I codifiable by some frivolous standard decided on in the last hundred years or so? Categories which have only existed but for a moment in the span of humanity?”

Armand dug his nails into his bicep as he clenched his jaw. It appeared he was trying incredibly hard to restrain his anger, his fear.

“It explains your experience,” I offered. “I don’t see a diagnosis as a label or category so much as an explanation, a way to describe what someone is going through… yes, diagnoses are socially constructed, but they describe very real phenomena. We could very well have come up with different names and subsets of traits, but ultimately, they describe something felt and observed. In the past we referred to these kinds of experiences as possession, transcendence, an imbalance of humors–– all of those also described something very real in a flawed, imprecise way. Do the words we use to describe someone’s reality negate that experience? Does it make it frivolous? Or does it make it something we can understand?” 

Armand’s face softened, a vulnerability overtaking the prior guardedness.

“So,” his eyes finally met mine. “What is my experience then? How will knowing help Daniel understand the chaos that so desperately loves him?”

I asked if Armand had ever heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder. He shook his head, jaw clenched tight as he braced himself for what came next.

“We used to refer to it as multiple personality disorder,” I paused, waiting for the inevitable.

Armand’s expression journeyed through something horrified, to curious, to confused, to finally settling on something that might have been relief.

“Oh,” he was quiet for several moments. “You think this is what I have?”

“Based on what you’ve shared with me and the assessment? Yes, I feel fairly confident in the possibility.”

“I see.” Armand folded his hands in his lap, his right thumb grazed over the left. “And what does that mean?” The “for me” was heavily implied, it felt like it was fighting to join the rest of his question. He looked at me with an earnestness that felt very unintentional, there was a desperateness manifesting that seemed to want to understand something about himself, anything, above all else.

I explained that due to the extensive trauma he experienced as a child, his mind–– in an effort to protect itself from the pain–– remained in a state of segregation, creating distinct identities that shoulder various aspects of the trauma to help him function. I detailed how DID would also explain his “going somewhere else,” as well as his amnesia, and feeling like he’s in a dream. He listened intently as I spoke, hanging on every word with equal parts fascination and discomfort. I went on to explain how these identities/ alters are the result of impeded mental integration, meaning that his psyche remained disjointed post trauma rather than commingling into a cohesive sense of self and they have their own unique identity and can’t be fully controlled by the main or “fronting” identity. 

“But they are not separate people from you, Armand,” I reiterated the sentiment from prior sessions. “You all experienced the same traumas and their experiences and opinions matter just as much as yours, because ultimately they are you–– they exist inside of you, with you. The later traumas you experienced served to solidify the dis-integration of your sense of self, reaffirming the need to remain dissociated.”

Armand looked on the verge of tears, he let out a breath that could have possibly been a laugh, and wiped at his eyes, clearly holding back the out-pour of emotion.

“I think perhaps, for the first time, I make sense to myself.” 

“Do you think it would help you make sense to Daniel?” 

Armand smiled at this, a genuine smile. 

“Daniel and I share this in common–– an insatiable need to understand, to dissect things down to their smallest parts, to see the inner workings. Where we differ is the manner in which we pursue that understanding. I think it would ease Daniel somewhat to know… he is a journalist after all–– the story behind something is often more important than the story being sold.”

I smiled back at him, mirroring and encouraging his willingness to be open.

“So you would be willing to share with Daniel?”

Armand hummed in affirmation, nodding as he massaged his palm with his thumb.

“Do you have any other insights that might be… useful for the continuation of our relationship?” He appeared embarrassed to ask this, fidgeting more as he spoke, eyes averting once again to the floor.

“Insights about you?” I questioned. “Or insights in general?”   

Armand pouted for the briefest of moments, quickly recovering and trying to mask his expression into something less juvenile and more serious. 

“About me…” His voice was quiet once again. “Perhaps understanding myself will help Daniel be more… patient?” He settled. 

I offered him an empathetic smile.

“You know that saying–– If you can’t love yourself, how can you love someone else?” 

Armand seemed confused, struggling to follow me.

“Yes?”

“Well, I think it’s bullshit. Sometimes it’s way easier to love someone else. It’s harder to give yourself grace and patience when you’ve never really experienced it. Understanding yourself and loving yourself only increases your ability to love someone else and in turn it helps you receive their love more easily,” I paused. “In a weird roundabout way, I’m assuring you that learning more about yourself and being open with Daniel can and likely will lead to less tension and more empathy for and from both of you.” 

Armand regarded me with an amused expression.

“Then help me understand, Nile, what else it is about me that is so difficult to accept–– to give grace.”

“Okay,” I paused trying to figure out how to best phrase my observations. I expressed that I was worried I was inundating him with a lot of heavy information, but he insisted that I be honest with him, that he wanted to know. There was that clear look of desperation again.

“We haven’t done an assessment or anything, so again this isn’t definitive,” I began. “But I feel very strongly that you likely have autism.”

Armand looked at me with an unreadable expression, sitting in silence for several moments with a thousand yard stare. I hoped that my anxiety didn’t show, but I could feel my face betray me. After several moments without blinking, he finally relaxed and sighed.

“I see.” He rubbed his thumbs on the sides of his index fingers, hands held in loose fists. “You are familiar with autism,” it wasn’t a question. “Intimately so… you are also autistic?” 

I was suddenly at a loss for words. I had no idea how to respond to his inference. I took a moment to gather myself as he looked at me expectantly. 

“I’m curious to know why you think I might also be autistic?” 

“An educated guess,” he smirked, but his expression quickly shifted to something more sympathetic. “I think perhaps I want you to be.”  

“And what if I am?” I asked.

“I believe I would feel more settled, knowing that you experience the same difficulties… I don’t believe I’ve ever met someone else like me. I’ve always been seen as odd, even before––” he cut himself off, refusing to continue that train of thought. 

“Before what?” I prompted, hoping he would elaborate.

“Just before… before the cult, before Marius, before the brothel. Before.” 

I nodded. Trying to understand. I decided to make the disclosure.

“To answer your question, yes. I am autistic… some of the things you’ve described to me, some of your thought processes, have reminded me of my own experience, of the experiences of other autistic people I see.” 

“It is a comfort then,” Armand was back to fidgeting with the red string around his wrist. “To know that this is not something I am alone in… I have often, even amongst my own, felt inherently different–– flawed. Though there were things I shared with Marius, Lestat, Louis, Daniel–– In Rome, in Paris–– I have always felt other. The madame at the brothel beat me because I became inconsolable over seemingly insignificant things… sounds, sensations I was unaccustomed to, my anxieties manifesting physically. I used to hide under my dearest Bianca’s bed when I was overwhelmed… I enjoy sleeping in a confined space–– it feels safer somehow…” Armand continued to stim, eyes fixed on my feet. “Despite myself, I cling to ritual. I find comfort in taking things apart and putting them back together.” He looked up at me, a serene and innocent expression took over. “I feel this explains a great deal–– explains me.” 

“We could do an assessment if you’d like, to have a preliminary confirmation–– or you could do it on your own time and we could go over it together.” 

“Perhaps,” was all he said in response.

Armand began to fidget with the edges of his scarf, eyes trailing towards the door. It seemed reality was catching up with him again.

“You’re wondering how this will work,” I pulled him back. 

Armand’s eyes drifted back towards me, though still away from my direct gaze.

“Yes,” he breathed. “I would very much like to know what to expect.”

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, trying to best articulate to Armand that I can’t really give him a clear scope of expectations because of the human element of therapy–– the very nature of interaction is unpredictable. He seemed dejected at this, and rightly so, shoulders dropping as his fidgeting increased.

“I can say that we can expect a dialogue,” I tried again. “That both you and Daniel will be given time and space to express your needs and concerns… I will ask a lot of questions to help gain clarity and communication. And you’re fully within your right to shut it down at any time, if it becomes too much we can change directions.”

Armand appeared to hang on to my every word, the explanation becoming his tether. I tried to explain that there would be an establishment of rules, safety measures, and boundaries to help keep the frame. I have a rule of no interrupting, giving ample time to listen to each other. Another is that we practice suspending judgment when someone says something and accepting what they say as their truth. 

“There will likely be very heavy, tense, and uncomfortable moments, but I’m here to help you navigate those. It’s part of the process–– the discomfort. And it’s temporary. That’s the beautiful thing about emotions, they tend to wax and wane. Eventually we don’t hold on to them anymore, feelings change or change in intensity. Sometimes the discomfort is a good thing.” I softened my expression, extending warmth towards Armand.

He let out a slow breath, clenching his fists and tensing his muscles before gradually releasing. He seemed slightly more settled. 

“I think I am ready, then,” he smiled weakly.

“It’s okay if you’re not," I reassured. “And I believe in your ability to do this, despite the uncertainty.”

Armand responded with an incredibly vulnerable expression, one that told me he was rarely believed in. He looked on the verge of tears before taking a slow breath and willing himself back into something more measured.

“I’d like for Daniel to join us.”

After Armand’s consent, I opened the door and invited Daniel inside. I tried to continue projecting warmth and openness despite my own uncertainty.

Daniel entered the space, simultaneously emanating confidence and apprehension. It was thinly veiled by a sort of bravado, evident in his posture and body language–– though it appeared to dissipate bit by bit as he took his spot near Armand on the couch. Unlike how they’d been in the waiting room, there was now significant distance between them. I greeted Daniel, welcoming him and expressing my gratitude for his willingness to join us. The man sighed, adjusting his position slightly as he grimaced. It was an odd combination of a smirk and a frown, shifting between the two rapidly.

“Yeah,” he raised his eyebrows. “Pleasure to be here and all.” It came across as insincere, masking something behind sarcasm. 

“Do you often use humor or sarcasm when you’re uncomfortable, Daniel?”

The older man looked at me in astonishment. He blinked rapidly as his lips twitched into a frown. 

“I, uh––”

Before Daniel could answer, Armand jumped in. “Yes, Daniel is sardonic by nature, it’s both his weapon and his shield.” He appeared frustrated by this.

I looked at Armand with sympathy, but also as a reminder, holding him accountable for bending the frame.

“Armand,” I interjected, looking between both men––both as an imparting of and reminder of the boundaries. “Remember those three rules?”

He returned my gaze with a sheepish expression, shrinking into himself slightly.

I looked at Daniel. “I have three main rules when working with families and couples, Daniel. First, no interrupting,” I Looked at Armand, raising an eyebrow. He responded with a small smirk, less ashamed and more amused that he was the one to break it. “Second, we all give space and time for people to talk–– really listening before responding. And lastly, we try to check our judgment when someone shares how they feel because we are listening to their truth, even though yours might feel different.”

“My apologies,” Armand’s eyes met Daniel’s. “I have a feeling the rules will be difficult for us, beloved.”

“Yeah,” Daniel laughed. “We fight like cats and dogs. He’s the cat and I’m the dog.” Daniel pointed to himself with his thumb.

I asked Daniel what he felt made him the dog.

“Well,” he rubbed his jaw. “Once I sniff out bullshit, I’m like a dog with a bone. I can’t let it go… not to mention my bark.” 

There was silence for a moment, before Armand filled it.

“Which, contrary to the saying, is just as bad as your bite.”

I nodded, acknowledging Armand’s perspective. I caught a smirk on Daniel’s lips as he acknowledged it, too.

“And how is Armand the cat?” I returned to Daniel.

“He sneaks up on you,” he supplied immediately. “Armand watches and waits until the moment you’re most vulnerable and then he strikes. He’s pretty much all bite and goddammit do his fangs hurt when he sinks ‘em in–– and he does it all ‘gently.’ He lures you into a false sense of ease until he drops the dead bird at your feet and expects you to be grateful for the gift of his insight. ” 

“Those are some very vivid metaphors.” 

“Yeah, well I’m a writer.” Daniel scratched his head. His tone was dismissive. “I’d be a pretty shitty one if I couldn’t paint a picture with words.” 

I asked Armand if he agreed with Daniel’s assessment.

“Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose I can be presumptuous, placating and measured before I retaliate.”

“Or go on the offensive,” Daniel added, meeting my gaze. “He’s like a cat, begging to be pet and rubbing his scent all over you until he bites without warning, getting pissed at you for touching him despite being the one to purr and rub against your leg.”

I asked if Daniel or Armand could think of an example for each of them so that I could better understand their dynamic. Armand was quiet for a while, watching Daniel with trepidation. It was as if he was afraid of what Daniel might say, afraid of being judged. His body language became withdrawn and his eyes trailed to his lap.

“Armand here has a tendency to lie.” Daniel side eyed him. “To me, to his exes, to himself. But I don’t think he’s aware of that last one… like I said, when I smell bullshit, I’m like a dog with a bone and catching Armand in a lie is something that happens enough that I latch on. I call him out, argue with him.”

His gaze drifted to his partner. 

“Yes,” Armand sighed. “I have lied to Lestat and Louis, to you. And there was reason for it, Daniel. I’ve omitted things and bent the truth when there were threats to my safety. And yes, I have kept up illusions of peace and happiness to maintain that safety. When the illusion breaks I bite back, so to speak. I don’t bite out of nowhere, beloved. I lash out when I feel threatened.” 

There was a moment of silence before Daniel sighed and unloaded.

“Well, I like honesty, Armand. It’s my job to find the truth and despite how much I care about you–– which makes me question literally everything I’ve ever believed about myself by the way–– I can’t keep sifting through what comes out of your mouth to figure it out. I’m tired of it… I’m tired of trying to figure out why you’re doing it and what the lies are, because sometimes there’s enough truth that it’s plausible. Not to mention that you fucking gaslight me.” Daniel looked at me then, frustration clear on his face. “Has he told you about that? Has he admitted that he tries to manipulate shit so he looks better? So that I trust him? I love him, but I don’t fucking trust him and that’s a huge fucking problem because relationships are about trust. I know, I ruined two marriages already.” 

I took a moment to let Daniel’s words sink in.

“What I’m hearing, Daniel, is that you need honesty in a relationship. That you’re frustrated that Armand doesn’t always tell the truth. You said you don’t trust him–– this pattern has solidified that for you. Have you ever thought that maybe Armand is dishonest because he has difficulty with trust, too?” 

“So I should just let him lie because he has a hard time with vulnerability?” Daniel questioned, accusatory.

“No, accountability is important.” I watched as Armand wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m saying that we all have behaviors that are less than savory when we feel threatened. The lying, and Armand’s efforts to control the situation and narrative stem from his experiences before he met you. He’s learned these to secure his safety, just as it seems you’ve learned to use humor to diffuse tension. I’m not saying it’s healthy or okay, rather it’s a fact.”

Daniel seemed to relax a bit, though he was still tense. I asked Armand if he had a response to what Daniel said.

“It is true that I try to engineer comfort…” He attempted to reach out to Daniel before quickly withdrawing his hand. “I have done many things I regret, including to you. I’m sorry, beloved, that I tried to re-script our history, for what I’ve done to you. I meant what I said that night, everything I’ve done I did because my love for you frightens me–– you frighten me.”

“I frighten Arun too, right?” Daniel spat.

“Beloved…” Armand clenched his fists. 

I looked at Armand, trying to read his comfortability. I nodded at Armand, encouraging him to be honest, to give Daniel some of what he wanted, but also to give himself grace and space.

“Yes,” Armand took a sharp inhale. “Arun is frightened of you… but I am frightened by you.”

“There’s a difference?” Daniel appeared skeptical.

Armand looked to me, seemingly for help. I offered it to him, to Daniel.

“Daniel,” I began. “I’m curious how much of Armand’s history you’re aware of. I think it’s important to grasp the depths of his experience, and yours, in order to understand how it’s showing up and impacting your relationship. Both of you are repeating earlier ingrained patterns that seem to conflict with each other’s internal needs–– despite how similar those needs are.” 

“What has he told you?” Daniel retorted. “He admit he was in a cult? That he led said cult?  Did he tell you he dated the same guy as his ex and they bonded over it while simultaneously loathing each other for years? Did Armand admit that he played this demented psychosexual game with me from the first time we met? That he was obsessed with me and ruined my life before weaseling his way back in it? Did he tell you about the pedophile he refuses to admit was a pedophile and how it warped his sense of what a relationship should actually be like?” 

Armand was incredibly quiet. He looked far away, like he might even have been dissociating.

“I was made aware of some significant moments and traumas, yes,” I responded. “As I said before, Armand, and you, are repeating patterns from earlier relationships and traumas. And I can see that you’re angry and confused. I am curious though, about what you meant by Armand ruining your life, Daniel. I am trying to get a full picture so I can help both of you.”

Daniel clammed up almost immediately. His face looked regretful, like he admitted something he knew he shouldn’t. He sighed.

“I meant that he enabled me is all. I’ve struggled with addiction on and off my whole life and Armand fed into it… then he fucking left me when things got too real. ”

“As I said that night, Daniel,” Armand seemed to return to himself. “I do many things out of fear. I feared losing you so I enabled you. Then when I saw what it was doing, I was horrified and thought it best if I removed myself from your life rather than watching you suffer, seeing you in such great pain.”

I expressed that this is actually a very common and normal reaction for partners of people struggling with addiction. I stated that especially for someone with Armand’s attachment style, it made sense that he would make all and any efforts to keep Daniel with him, even if it was hurting him. Making sense doesn’t mean excusing the harm caused. The reason might help us accept what happened and move forward. 

I then asked Armand what changed for him to go back to Daniel.

“Losing Louis.” He folded his hands together, grazing one thumb over the other. “I have stated several times that I do not know how to be on my own. It terrifies me. I have never once been wholly without someone–– whether it be Louis, Lestat, the theater… Marius. After the brothel,  Arun, Amadeo–– I have always been a part of someone or something else. Losing Louis reminded me of how much I love you, Daniel.”

“But you ran again,” Daniel’s tone was less accusatory and more dejected. 

“I did. And for that I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, beloved.”

“But you did. And you do .”

“I know,” was all Armand said.

I asked Daniel how he was hurt, what specifically was causing him pain in the present moment. 

“Loving him is painful–– no offense, Armand, but giving a shit about you comes with a whole lotta baggage and I’ve never done this before. It’s fucking hard to be there for you when you disappear physically or mentally… when you tell me you don’t think God will save you and you’re damned–– that God can’t forgive a monster, something already dead. It made me so fucking angry and horrified when you told me you miss that pedophile fuck and think about him when you jack off. When you said to me that part of you feels like you’re being raped when we have sex. It’s fucking hard to love someone so fucked up, yet I do and I want to, but I keep messing up. I’m trying to understand, but I don’t.” 

Daniel sounded on the verge of tears. He was clearly angry, but the anger appeared to be a mask for his fear and concern. Armand’s lower lip trembled almost imperceptibly as his partner spoke. He too became emotional, too overwhelmed to speak. He looked at me with glassy eyes in an apparent cry for help.

“Loving someone with extensive trauma is hard. It can be incredibly painful, Daniel. I want to acknowledge that. I want to acknowledge that this is difficult, for both of you. I hope you can give yourself grace, too. There isn’t a rule book for being in a relationship with someone with a dissociative disorder, for someone with severe childhood trauma. That’s why you’re here, to learn how to handle those challenges.” 

Daniel perked up when I mentioned a potential diagnosis.

“A dissociative disorder?”

“Yes,” I looked at Armand. He clenched his jaw before nodding. “After working with Armand for the last two months it’s become clear that his trauma severely impacted his sense of self and ability to have healthy relationships. I had him do an assessment and he and I have discussed a preliminary diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

“Like multiple personalities?” Daniel looked at Armand in shock.

“We used to call it that, but it’s not really an accurate description of the experience…” I redirected. “All of the ‘personalities’ are different aspects of his identity that never got the chance to safely integrate. They’re essentially alternate versions of him. They are him, just sectioned off parts that hold his disjointed feelings–– ones that seem incongruent with each other. It’s a psychological safety mechanism, it kept him safe during the worst of his traumas.”

“So Amadeo, Arun––” He seemed unable to finish the thought.

“Are part of me,” Armand finally entered the discussion. “From what I understand they coexist within me, we share consciousness, their feelings are mine, but they don’t feel like mine. I was them once, a long time ago, but now they are like ghosts that possess me when I feel exposed, terrified.”

“The other night then…”

“Yes,” Armand finally felt brave enough to hold Daniel’s hand. “After you claimed you were my Amadeo, it awoke something in me. I felt threatened… because it was the truth, Daniel. It was the truth and I did not want to acknowledge it. All this time, Nile has believed that I was recreating my relationship with Marius by being with you, but in truth I have been reenacting his relationship with me. It is what I understood, thus with Louis I sought to be dominated as I was accustomed, but with you… my hu–– my fascinating boy, I became my master and wanted to possess you. From the moment I saw you, I loved you, just as he loved me, and I wanted you despite myself. Marius had these same thoughts, same feelings about me… and when you confronted me with this, it upset me deeply. It upset Arun so much that the one who protects us, me, was acting like those who had hurt him. Thus, he took control from me.” Armand’s eyes were simultaneously intense and far away.

“When I left that night, it was not me who left you, it was Arun. When I came back to myself, out of the apartment, I could not remember how I had gotten there. Arun begged me to let him have what he wanted when he returned. You told me I am allowed to set boundaries–– a novelty. That night when I declined intimacy, it was not because I didn’t want to, it was because, for the first time, I let the child inside my mind choose comfort. I have been denying him because I loathed him… but he should not be loathed. He was a defenseless boy who was wronged and this version of me,” Armand gestured to himself. “Has continued to wrong him. I wanted to make it up to him, so I said no.” 

Daniel’s brows knit as he processed what his partner told him.

“This is a lot, Armand.” He took off his glasses and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m trying here, I’m really trying to understand… but I don’t think I do.”

I gave both men a sympathetic look and began to provide some more education about DID to Daniel.

“It can be really difficult to understand dissociative identity disorder,” I began. “I want to demystify it for you, because in the long run, it will help both of you.”

Daniel nodded, pouting slightly as he prepared to listen. 

“Dissociation is something we all experience to varying degrees. Driving somewhere and blanking on how you got there, being on autopilot, feeling like what’s happening to you isn’t real. These are all very normal reactions to stress. For Armand however, his psyche does this much more often. It’s why he doesn’t remember certain things or why he might feel like he didn’t have control of his actions.”

“Okay,” Daniel drew out the syllables. “I think I get that part.”

“In terms of the dissociated identities,” I continued. “It’s not something most people experience. However, we can all relate to having different aspects to our sense of self. We all have a persecutory part of our personality, an inner child who reverts to juvenile behaviors in moments of stress. There might be a protector, a rescuer. There are suppressed parts of us–– parts we lock away out of shame or societal expectations. Think of a kid whose family valued masculinity, but he had supposed feminine interests, he’s gay but it’s not acceptable. He might wall off that identity, suppress it and never act on it. He internalizes the homophobia and his inner voice becomes critical of anything outside the norms of masculinity. That part of him is persecutory and acts outside of his day to day behavior, except when triggered.”

Daniel was attentive as I spoke, clearly listening to my words and trying to internalize them.

“In Armand’s case, he’s unaware of those parts, they don’t feel like they are a part of him… whereas most of us recognize that the critical version of us, the one that acts opposite of how we feel, is still part of who we are–– it’s cohesive in our self concept. Sometimes this comes out in a defense mechanism called reaction formation, where we act in complete opposition to our inner urges and emotions. For Armand, this isn’t his experience. He experiences these thoughts and feelings as disjointed from his sense of self and they may disagree to the point of suppressing part of his consciousness rather than solely suppressing the feelings.” 

“Okay,” Daniel took a deep breath. “I think I get it… I definitely understand the internalized rejection of homosexuality. Been there, done that,” he turned to Armand. “I guess like everything, you’re just more extreme.” He smiled at him, a fondness replacing his confusion and anger.  

Armand smiled back, closed lipped and weary. 

“So… what does it mean for us?” Daniel’s gaze returned to mine. “How do I–– we handle that?”

I took a deep breath before responding, gathering my thoughts and my resolve.

“It means you maintain a dialogue with him–– and the other identities. He needs to familiarize them with you and you need to get to know them, help him help them trust you. Each alter, or identity, needs to be acknowledged and involved in Armand’s choices, even if he disagrees with their feelings.”

“But… what do we, what do I do when we disagree?” Armand appeared distressed. 

I softened my expression.

“You and I will work towards that, Armand. We’ll do some parts work. The three of you can coexist if we learn how to meet their emotional and psychological needs. I want to encourage you to communicate with Arun and Amadeo, become more aware of them. All Daniel needs to do is be open and supportive of your self exploration and you need to grant him grace when he doesn’t understand.”

“I think we can do that.” Daniel squeezed Armand’s hand and Armand squeezed back.

I stated that next session, Armand and I could work on specific grounding techniques for DID as well as how to begin accommodating for his alters–– especially Arun, since he seemed to be in the most opposition to Armand. The sense of relief between both men was apparent and some of the heaviness left the room. 

“I also want to give you both some tools to begin navigating tension and distress in a way that is affirming rather than escalating,” I paused.

Both men looked at me eagerly. Armand altered between his eerie stillness and fidgeting while Daniel began to subtly run his thumb along his knee.

I began to describe a framework for them to use to reduce conflict and increase a sense of validation. I explained that in Armand and Daniel’s case, their experiences, trauma, and history, create a heightened emotional vulnerability for each of them. Both have a history of receiving invalidating or antagonistic responses to their distress, thus when stress or tension occurs, both of them become reactive, increasing judgment of the other person and perpetuating invalidation. This creates more dysregulation, which makes expressing emotions even more difficult, resulting in inaccurate expressions of feelings. It creates even greater misunderstanding and mistrust. 

“How do we remedy this then?” Armand asked, anxiety evident in his tone. 

“Well, firstly, I would recommend pausing or grounding yourself before responding in a tense situation–– maybe even taking a break, walking away before having a discussion. When we’re highly emotional, solutions and criticism don’t work–– they only contribute to the problem. When you do communicate, focus on the feeling being expressed. If you are angry, say you are angry. Avoid statements like: you make me angry. Don’t invalidate the other person’s expression, even if it doesn’t make sense, because emotions don’t always make sense. Reflect what the other says. If Daniel says that what happened between you and Marius brings up feelings of anger for him, you hold space for that. You validate that he is angry, even if you disagree. And Daniel, if Armand says that when you tell him Marius’ relationship with him disgusts you and makes you upset, he feels hurt and confused, you let him feel that and acknowledge his perception is his reality.”

I left space for them to process what I was saying. 

“After you express your feelings, then you can discuss what to do next or explain the what and why. Daniel, you may feel angry because from your perception Armand was taken advantage of. And you have to acknowledge that he has conflicted feelings about that relationship. Because yes, while an adult man being sexually active with a teenager is morally upsetting, Armand did feel loved and cared for. It is both true that Marius and he cared about each other and that Marius’ actions were harmful. I think both of you can hold space for that. The same thing applies to any other feelings you express. This is called dialectics–– multiple truths can exist at once and we have to practice accepting that. Accepting doesn’t mean you condone it or that you’re okay with it. It’s an acknowledgement of what the situation is and how you feel about it, sitting with your discomfort.” 

“Fuck,” Daniel’s posture relaxed. “I am uncomfortable. This whole thing is uncomfortable. I can accept a lot–– I have accepted a lot. But some things? How the hell do you wrap your head around some of the shit he’s been through––what we’ve been through? I’m not gonna lie, sometimes I think about some of the shit he’s pulled–– especially when he’s freaking me out or I’m pissed at him–– and I get angry, self-righteous. I want him to take accountability and actually own the fucked up things he’s done instead of blaming other people and being impassive.” He looked at Armand. “It doesn’t make you look good, Armand. You think you’re garnering sympathy–– but you’re not. When you do that it just makes me wanna give up and fuck off. Take accountability for once… the shit you do impacts other people, not just you. I want to be with you, but some of the stuff you do  makes me question my sanity and I wonder if I can even follow what your therapist is telling me because sometimes I get so goddamn afraid of you. You don’t act rational half the time… you just do things and freak out when they fall apart. I’m tired of putting up with it, I don’t know how much more I can take.” 

Armand remained silent, eyes fixed on his hands threaded together in his lap. I intervened.

“Daniel,” I softened my tone. “Can you help me understand what our discussion is bringing up for you? I can see there’s still a lot of hurt, angry feelings. I want to make sure you’ve gotten to say your piece, what you feel you need. I’ve heard you say that Arun is afraid of you, heard from Armand that he’s frightened by his love for you, and now you said that you’re afraid of Armand, too. There’s a consistent theme here. To me, as a third party, it seems like both of you consistently operate from a place of fear.”

Daniel laughed, it was incredulous and biting. 

“Yeah, don’t most people? Survival and all… fear is a powerful motivation.”

“So is love,” I pointed out. “And love can often mingle with fear. It’s clear to me that you both care very deeply about each other. How that love manifests, how the desire to care about the other person shows up in your behavior, seems to conflict with each other’s needs at the moment. Armand wants closeness, deep connection when he’s afraid and love feels uncertain or scary. And Daniel, it seems your instinct is to either run away or lash out. Maybe I’m way off base here, but our conversation right now seems like another instance of you running away–– running emotionally and avoiding, focusing on what Armand does or has done rather than what you’re experiencing and want him to understand.”

Daniel clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

“What I want, is for him to admit that what he did to me is fucked up.”

I looked back at Armand. He met my gaze with a pained expression, clearly trying to keep himself in check.

“It was,” he said in a very quiet voice. “It was fucked up … and you liked it, Daniel. You used to tell me how much you enjoyed it, how you craved those moments when I played with your desires… Do not sit there and judge me for giving you what you asked for–– you used to beg me for it.”

“I begged you?” Daniel scoffed, interrupting Armand. “I’m not talking about our sex life, Armand! I’m not talking about you chasing me from city to city, the sexual sadism, the mind games. I’m talking about you abandoning me, being your Amadeo–– manipulating me, just like de Romanus did to you. Like you said the other night, you knew what it was like.” 

It was like I no longer existed in the room. I became invisible and the only dynamic that mattered, the only thing that mattered, was Daniel’s anger and hurt directed at Armand.

“Marius manipulated you and you turned around and did the same shit to me! 

“It’s not the same.” Armand’s voice was incredibly quiet, defeated almost.

I asked Armand to help me understand what he felt was different between their relationship and his relationship with Marius. I posed the same question to Daniel. Armand clenched his fists, brows furrowing as his jaw tensed.

“I told Daniel the other night… I do not want to have to say it again. Please do not make me repeat it–– I do not want to revisit that conversation.”

I asked Armand what was happening for him in this moment, what feelings were coming up.

“Amadeo is angry,” he took a shuddering breath. “He is incredibly hurt by Daniel’s accusation. He wants me to wound Daniel emotionally, just as he used to taunt Marius when he upset us. Amadeo wants to hurt you because your words hurt him..” Armand couldn’t look at Daniel. “I do not wish to discuss it because he grieves still and the accusations you make towards our master devastates him. Marius loved him, Daniel and I love you… that is where the similarities end.”

“So the kid wants to lash out,” Daniel huffed. “Fucking let him. I don’t give a shit. It baffles me how you can’t understand that what you did is a sick reenactment of what that bastard did to you. Just because you don’t want to see it doesn’t mean it isn’t true! You manipulated me when I was at my most vulnerable, Armand. You gave me something you never should have given me, you fucked with my head. Isn’t that what de Romanus did?”

Armand closed his eyes, fingers tightening into fists.

“You were not a child when I met you, Daniel.”

“Oh so you admit it was fucked up that he lusted after a pubescent kid?”

“Stop.” Armand’s voice shook with emotion.

“Fine, I’ll stop,” Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. “But you have to admit that he took someone vulnerable and manipulated him. You did the same goddamn thing. I was a naive idiot when you met me, addicted to coke and easily swayed by anything and anyone who would match the thrill seeker in me. You did that… you were the one who scrambled my brain, you were the one who messed with my head–– you took–– you took––” Daniel got choked up, unable to finish.

“I know.” Armand managed. “I know, Daniel and I–– I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to take that from you, to make a choice for you. I can admit that…” Armand’s cadence began to match Daniel’s, emotional and heavy. “I–– I think I realize now that I needed to let you decide, but I was–– as I’ve said before–– a coward, and so I took that choice.”

I finally decided to intervene again, to get things more focused.

“Daniel puts himself in danger or you see Daniel in danger so you take control to keep him safe. I think so much of your life has felt out of your control that you try to control what you can–– it gives you a sense of agency you feel is lacking, but I think, maybe subconsciously it empowers those disempowered parts of you.”

“Yes,” Armand opened his eyes again, they were glassy and frantic. “Yes, I want to have control. I want to take away Daniel’s pain because Marius took away mine… it was his greatest expression of love towards me.”

“But you don’t get to decide that, Armand!” Daniel all but yelled. “You don’t get to make that choice for me. I know you don’t fucking get it because you never had agency or whatever, but it’s not okay! It was never okay for you to take those memories from me!”

I suddenly felt very confused. I had no idea what to say or how to intervene.

“Years of my life, gone… my memory like fucking Swiss cheese. You thought it was best for me, but you took years of memories that–– that were beautiful, they were mine and they were mine of you. I wanted to keep them and you decided it was better if I forgot. But I couldn’t forget, not really. I craved something I didn’t understand, something no drugs could fill. I fucked up my relationships, threw myself into my work to drown out the giant hole I felt–– which is one of the first things I remember you saying to me, Armand–– you saying there wasn’t much more to me than a hole. But you know what I think? I think that’s a fucking projection. You’re a black hole, sucking everything closer and closer until you annihilate it. You do exactly what you’re afraid of.”

Armand broke down, sobbing hysterically. He covered his face, hiding his head in his hands. He spoke, but it was muffled and difficult to discern. Daniel looked horrified, clearly not expecting his partner to become so emotional. Eventually, Armand uncovered his face enough to speak clearly.

“I know,” his voice sounded much younger. “I do not know how else to love… I wanted you to feel loved–– how I felt loved. He loved me, Daniel. My master loved me enough to make me forget…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Daniel’s confusion was clear. He clenched his hands into fists. “What do you mean he loved you enough to make you forget?”

“Is it not clear?” Armand’s shoulders shook, though very restrained, barely perceptible. “He gave me the gift of forgetting the worst of it. He took from me the memories of Arun’s family when he renamed me. It was so painful to remember them, to remember that Arun would never see them again… so my master was kind enough to take that pain away. Though he was not as skilled with the mind gift… He could not manage to erase all of it–– my mind was too fractured, he could not retract the memories of the men who raped me, of the abuse. He could not erase the boat captain using Arun for the first time. Those memories stayed, however hazy. But my master could give me comfort, he could make me feel loved, give me a sense of peace and part of himself… and I was grateful.”

“You–– you don’t wish you remembered your family?” Daniel looked devastated by this revelation.

“No,” Armand said at first. “No, I am glad I don––” but then he paused, as if he was struggling to get the words out. “I do…” his voice was much softer, even more vulnerable. “I wish I remembered Amma’s face,” he cried. “I wish I could remember if I had brothers or sisters. I remember pieces–– being held as a woman touched my face and kissed my forehead… I remember praying next to a man who might have been my abbu. I wish I remembered. I wish so badly that I remembered.”

Daniel sighed, reaching for Armand’s knee. Armand jerked away, still covering his face.

“Please,” he sniffed. “Please do not touch me.” Armand sounded afraid or perhaps guilty for making the request. “I do not want to be touched.”

“Arun?” I guessed.

“Yes?” His alter answered, body now twisted so he could lean against the arm of the couch, head buried by his arms.

“You wish you remembered, but Amadeo is happy to forget,” I ventured.

I could see him nod.

“And Armand?” Daniel jumped in, clearly uncomfortable, but concerned.

“Somewhere between us,” he mumbled. 

I asked if we could speak to Armand again, since he was the one in the relationship with Daniel. I stressed that I cared about Arun and Amadeo and their feelings, and right now, Daniel really needed to speak to Armand because he was the one who was hurt by his actions, that Daniel deserved to be heard by him. Arun nodded and said that he did not want to go because he was afraid. He did not want Armand to be angry with him for being honest. Arun said that Armand was very hurt and didn’t want to hear what Daniel was telling him because both Armand and Amadeo knew it was true.

“So he’s hiding?” Daniel stumbled through the question.

Arun nodded, still hiding his face from both of us.

I asked what Armand needed to come back to the conversation. There was a long pause before Arun responded. He said that Armand needed Daniel’s reassurance that he would not leave him.

“I’m not gonna leave,” Daniel sighed. He looked conflicted, raising his arm up slightly, clearly wanting to reach out to the wounded, frightened child sitting next to him. “Can I–– Can I touch you?” Daniel asked.

Arun tensed, body going rigid. He stayed like that for a moment. 

“I just wanna hold your hand,” Daniel softened his voice, I nodded, encouraging him to continue. “I’m not gonna do anything else, I promise. I just want Armand––you–– to know I’m here… I want you to be okay. I want us to be okay.”

Arun took a deep breath and carefully moved his left arm away from his head, sliding his hand towards Daniel’s. It was tentative, but eventually he let Daniel lace their fingers together. The older man grazed his thumb along the side of Armand’s thumb, just as Armand did to himself when he needed grounding. 

“Is this okay?” Daniel asked, looking to me like I had the answers. 

I directed my gaze to Armand. He took a shaky breath before nodding.

“It’s okay.” I was certain we were still talking to Arun. 

“Daniel isn’t angry with you, Arun.” I held eye contact with Daniel, who nodded as I spoke. “I know it feels scary and uncomfortable, and Daniel is not upset with you. You did nothing wrong. It feels like it’s directed at you because you share experiences with Armand, but the feelings Daniel has about their relationship are not your responsibility–– that processing belongs to Armand, and it’s unfair of him to leave you to be the one to hold all of his discomfort.”

“Can I talk to him?” Daniel asked Arun, asking for Armand.

Another deep sigh was released and the rigid tension in his body relaxed. The room was silent for several moments.

“I’m sorry, beloved.” Armand’s voice was hoarse from crying.  

“I think we’ve switched roles.” Daniel laughed uncomfortably. “It’s gone from me running and being chased, to me chasing you… I think I liked it better when it was me.”

Armand let out a weak laugh. 

“Yes,” he breathed, head still tucked into his arm. He squeezed Daniel’s hand. “I think I liked it better when my secrets were secrets and yours were not.”

“Of course you did.” Daniel lifted Armand’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “And I like it when you’re honest with me.”

“I don’t like being honest…” Armand grumbled. 

“Yeah,” Daniel continued to graze his thumb along Armand’s hand. “Honesty’s hard for you, I get that.”

“When you have seen all that I have, Daniel, you come to realize people are far happier with curated versions of the truth.”

“I know,” The older man smiled sadly. “But not me. I want all of it, including the messy stuff. Especially the messy stuff.” 

“You would love all of me if I let you?” Armand sounded so uncertain.

“I would try,” Daniel squeezed his hand. “Even the parts that disgust me–– that make me disgusted with myself…” he paused. “You told me you love those parts of me, that you always have… I might as well try to return the favor.

For the first time all session, Daniel looked extremely tender, like I was no longer watching him, like I wasn’t in the room. He pulled Armand into a hug, allowing Armand to press himself tightly against his chest, burying his face into the space between his shoulder and his neck. Armand breathed in deeply, as if he was grounding himself with the smell of Daniel. The older man pressed a kiss to the top of his head and began rubbing soothing circles into Armand’s upper back.

“I love you Daniel,” Armand pulled away, back still facing me. “I love you with everything in my being and I will love you until the stars burn out, until all that is left are your hands in mine. For eternity, two souls fated to meet, tethered together by grotesque love none other than us could fathom..”

“Okay, Mary Shelley,” Daniel chuckled as he thumbed away the tears from Armand’s cheeks–– but his finger came away bloody. 

I felt immediately confused and afraid. I watched them for a moment before I noticed something else. Of course Daniel’s shirt was wet where Armand’s face was buried, but the fabric was diffused with red, not just darkened from tears. Blood. There was blood on Daniel’s shirt where Armand’s tears had soaked through. I felt queasy, slightly faint. I could tell all color drained from my face and my body tensed. I stared at the two of them, vision tunneling before I noticed Daniel looking at me in equal confusion.

“Fuck,” was the last thing I heard before I woke up on the couch, both men standing over me with apprehensive looks. 

I tried to get my bearings, but I still felt hazy, like I was waking up from a dream.

“Nile,” Armand crouched down, kneeling on the floor next to me. “Are you alright?” He looked genuinely concerned.

I asked what happened, to which both men responded by looking at each other with wary expressions.

“You passed out,” Daniel said bluntly.

I nodded, sitting up slowly. 

“I’ve fainted before…” I tried to reason out what was going on. “I have a condition,” I attempted to explain, but still felt confused. “I randomly pass out sometimes–– but never in session. I–– I’m sorry.”

Armand looked upset by my apology.

“Please, do not apologize,” he asserted, eyes darting back to Daniel. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“That was probably very scary for you, I wanted to acknowledge that,” I replied. “It’s not everyday your therapist faints.” 

“No,” Armand smiled at my attempt at humor. “No, and it’s not everyday that you witness someone cry blood.” He quickly looked away from Daniel who appeared shocked that Armand had said that.

“Armand…” Daniel said through gritted teeth.

“It’s alright, beloved.” He passed me a glass of water, which I readily accepted. “You said you preferred it when I am honest.”

“I didn’t mean like this!” The man’s hands tugged at his hair, clearly distressed.

“You also told me therapy requires honesty… I am only taking what you said to heart,” he pouted, an uncharacteristic expression for him.

“Jesus Christ, Armand. This is so messed up… what about the great laws?” Daniel said in a mocking tone.

“Irrelevant. Louis and I revealed our nature to you and you’re…. relatively fine.” 

“Oh,” Daniel barked out a laugh. “You call this fine? I call it cleaning up your mess you accidentally fall in love with.”

“Well,” Armand sat beside me on the couch, leaving ample distance between us. “I think you are actually quite happy with the outcome, Daniel.”

“Still getting used to it, but yeah I guess…” he conceded before shaking his head. “But that’s not the point.”

“What is the point, beloved?” Armand appeared to be playing naive, after getting to know him it was clear he was trying to goad Daniel into explaining it to him–– and to me.

“The point is, you’re about to risk both our asses because you feel guilty.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t just wipe it? Act like it never happened?”

“Why would I do that, Daniel?” Armand crossed his arms. His tone was defensive. “You said yourself that it is an invasive and manipulative thing to do, and it is not my choice to make people forget things that are uncomfortable or upsetting.” 

“Shit, are you being dense on purpose?!” Daniel looked distraught. “You are giving me so many goddamn mixed signals.”

Armand sighed deeply.

“No, I am not being purposely dense … I am genuinely tired of talking around my history to someone who has been gracious enough to hear it without judgment… your words have made me reconsider the value of withholding, Daniel. I am not Louis or Lestat, I am not looking to share my history, my nature , with the whole of humanity. Just one individual who wants to help someone who was convinced he would be broken forever… is that so wrong?”

Daniel groaned, somehow even more frustrated.

“Yes?!” He shouted. “I’m glad you feel seen, Armand, I really am… but this –– I think this warrants some Men in Black shit. I can excuse this one.”

“You’re talking about me like I’m not here,” I interjected.

Armand turned to face me, expression softening.

“My apologies, Nile, Daniel and I are just arguing the merits of disclosing our vampire nature to you versus wiping your memory.”

I sat there stunned, dumbfounded on how to respond or what to even think.

“Armand!” 

“It’s alright, beloved. I know it sounds like the ravings of a mad person…” Armand got up and walked towards where I had stored his art. He grabbed the first archetype he had painted, the vampire, and came to sit back beside me. “I must admit, you are very insightful… your interpretation of this as a metaphor was quite apt. But…” he paused, looking at Daniel with something akin to guilt. “I fear the truth is stranger than you can imagine.” I watched as his fingers traced along the floral border he had painted. He took a long inhale before continuing. 

“I am over 500 years old. I was born towards the end of the Delhi Sultanate and died as the Italian Renaissance drew to a close. My Master, Marius de Romanus, was a millennia old by the time he discovered me. When I was on my deathbed, Marius finally decided to make me like him–– for he feared losing me… so he gave me what he referred to as the dark gift.”

Armand fidgeted with the red string around his wrist.

“In 1535 I became a vampire. In 1973 I met Daniel. He was 20 years old and I was immediately infatuated with him. I toyed with him, tortured him, loved him. For 12 years we played this game, chasing him and indulging his most hidden and depraved desires. It was the happiest I had been since I was with Marius. But I was giving him my blood… and he was still human and it was destroying him. I could not bear the thought of being his ruin. The idea of turning him into a vampire was repulsive to me, something to despair. Thus I erased his memories of loving me, erased myself from his mind. But it was this past year when Louis requested to see him again and I could not bear it. I did not want to face Daniel–– but when he revealed my lies, the awful and terrible things I have done, to Louis… I once again found myself alone. And there was Daniel, beautiful as ever, but dying. The thought of him dying was so distressing to me that it surpassed my revulsion and I shared the gift with him, making him a vampire as well. So you see,” Armand let out an awkward laugh. “Things are far more complicated than they seem.”

“Holy shit.” I sat there wide-eyed. I was at a loss, utterly overwhelmed. And strangely, I believed every word. There was no doubt in my mind, no thought at all that this was some grand delusion. Armand suddenly made much more sense.

“Yeah, holy shit,” Daniel dead panned.

“Are––” I paused, struggling to get out my words. “Are werewolves real too?” I found myself asking.

Daniel began to laugh hysterically.

“You get the bomb dropped on you that your patient is a vampire and the first thing you wanna know is if the wolfman exists?”

“Yes?” My own reaction surprised me.

“They do,” Armand affirmed. “As do witches, ghosts as well…”

“I see,” was all I could manage.

“I don’t think we should leave them here after you just imploded their worldview, Armand,” Daniel pointed out.

“No, that would be unwise,” Armand’s brow furrowed.

“So what do we do now?” 

“I am uncertain. I have never done this before… perhaps we should stay while Nile processes?” Armand’s eyes were glued to his feet. “I don’t––”

“Want to have to kill me?” I ventured. 

“What?!” Daniel sputtered.

“I’ve read books, seen movies… you reveal the vampirism and then you kill me.” I swallowed. “You could… I mean I wouldn’t stop you–– I have horrible upper body strength. Do I want to die? No, not really… but I never really pictured myself being alive after 25 and here I am at 30 talking to a vampire. I thought I was gonna be a costume designer, went to school for it. Hated it, dropped out. I became a therapist–– not what I was expecting. Lots of unexpected outcomes for me–– I almost died so many times in my life that people who learn about my fucked up medical history question how I’m still here. So dying by vampire doesn’t seem too out there to be honest. Weirdly, I’m not afraid of death or dying… I just hope dying doesn’t fuck up my parents too badly.”

“Nile,” Armand took my hand in his. “I’m not going to kill you,” he smiled softly. “There are several humans who are aware of our existence–– of vampires. They study and keep track of our numbers, I loathe them, but they are a fly on a windshield–– a nuisance but ultimately a very minor threat. I doubt you could cause more trouble than the Talamasca.”

“The Talamasca?” I asked.

“A supernatural surveillance body,” Daniel supplied. “They keep tabs on vampires, witches, and so forth… some of us even work for them. Which I think is bullshit, like being a class traitor, but that’s besides the point.”

“They may come to talk to you now that you are aware, but then again I have been very careful.” Armand looked at Daniel.

“Well, I’m bound by HIPAA and the art therapy credentials board code of ethics to never disclose anything you tell me to an unauthorized party, so…” 

“Good.” Armand’s posture relaxed. “I would rather dislike if Raglan James became intimately acquainted with my history and innermost feelings. He does not deserve to know. I want to be the one who decides who is worthy enough to hear it–– safe enough. Raglan is far from that person.”

“Well,” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know whether to be honored, terrified, or relieved–– maybe some weird combination–– to be included in the category of people who get to know.” 

“I like you, Nile,” Armand confessed. “You remind me of my dearest Bianca, of Riccardo. I would have shared these secrets with them if I had known how, if Marius allowed it.” 

“Honored then,” I decided. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for… holding all of it, despite how horrific, how inconceivable.”

“Sure,” was all I could manage. 

“I’ll see you next week then?” Armand asked, as if he didn’t just break the illusion of safety I’d been living under.

I nodded as both men thanked me for the session and waited in the empty room for an indiscernible amount of time. I don’t know how long it was, just that I needed it.

REFLECTION AND INTERPRETATION

This will be brief––as brief as possible because I do not think I can process my feelings and understanding in writing, and I will ignore the… vampirism of it all for now. Firstly, the immediate interactions between Armand and Daniel when they were unaware they were being watched were incredibly important and telling. Armand appeared more anxious than Daniel, which would make sense as Daniel is entering Armand’s “sanctuary”–– Armand may have possibly felt emotionally and psychologically threatened by the person he is most intimate becoming part of his processing. He now has a set ritual and expectation, which Daniel being added to the mix disrupts. Daniel on the other hand seemed far less anxious. He had a more collected demeanor, and maybe I’m making assumptions, but men Daniel’s age (in my experience) tend to come in with a lot of false confidence and bravado, acting like they know everything to hide their insecurity. Sometimes they undermine or dismiss me, but I was trying very hard to suspend my judgment of Daniel, despite how much he reminds me of my own baby boomer father.

Also of note was the “comfortable silence” before session began. Armand is not a talker the majority of the time–– at least in therapy. He seems to prefer moments of silence and just being in the company of another person without expectation, but I’m unsure if he knows that about himself. I did feel like I was invading their bubble of safety as I observed them, however these candid observations are important for understanding a couple's dynamics. Because Daniel was present, Armand wasn’t wearing his jacket this week–– his security blanket was already there. In terms of Armand’s appearance he was also wearing a turtleneck, though his neck is usually exposed. This felt important. I thought that perhaps this choice was a protective one, that he may have felt vulnerable, thus he was covering up–– after learning about him being a vampire, I think it’s safe to say that this interpretation is likely correct? 

It may seem superficial, but taking note of Armand’s fashion and appearance is important to understanding his state of mind and identity development. It points towards progression or regression. This week he was wearing a mix of Western and Eastern fashion, which told me he may have felt slightly more integrated or more experimental. What occurred later in the session told me that he was actually fighting to be in control and that the hints of Eastern fashion in his dress may have been a manifestation of that power struggle slipping through–– but again this is only an interpretation and could be completely off base.

When I greeted the pair, Daniel was quick to terminate the intimacy between them, distancing himself from Armand. This spoke to a more avoidant attachment style whereas Armand is more anxious. Daniel pulled away while Armand clung on. He appeared hurt by Daniel’s insecurity of their closeness being witnessed. This, strangely, also reminded me of my father in that he is also avoidant and detached. I consistently tried to catch my countertransference with Daniel but I found it difficult. I felt intimidated by him and his firm handshake and direct eye contact made me feel uncomfortable and judged. I kept reminding myself that I was sitting across from someone I didn’t know and that I was bringing in baggage that had nothing to do with what was in front of me. It became clear as our time together progressed that Daniel, like Armand, has a curated persona. We all do to an extent, but both of them have clear masks (at least to me) that hide the more vulnerable and authentic parts–– this shows up in how they dress, their defense mechanisms, what they choose to focus on in session.

I took note immediately of how Daniel latched on to humor in the face of uncertainty and discomfort. I circled back to this later as a less threatening “in.” He was far less obviously nervous than Armand, who was incredibly tense and fidgety for the majority of the first part of our session. I believe he was afraid of Daniel seeing under his curated self. I noticed that in some instances, when he is afraid, Armand tends to act in a more juvenile way–– he seems younger somehow. It could be related to the DID, but it’s very subtle (though DID can also be subtle). I think it’s also connected to his anxious-ambivalent attachment. He has severe attachment wounds and abandonment trauma. He acts like a clingy child (I mean this as an observation, not as a judgment) when he fears being alone–– that or he acts out, just like a kid would. He can’t tolerate the thought of being alone so he avoids it and makes all attempts to avoid the fear becoming real. He couldn’t say it out loud though, so I did for him. I mostly did it so he could recognize this tendency in himself. 

When Armand later admitted that Arun was afraid of Daniel and of Armand himself, I felt this made complete sense, despite Armand feeling confused and distressed by it. Arun has severe trauma with adult men, thus it would make sense that he is afraid. I think this fear, from this inner child part of himself, makes Armand feel immense anger and shame. It was also clear that he felt guilty about telling Daniel the truth about how Arun felt about their intimacy. But also, what a huge bomb to drop onto your unsuspecting partner? Thank god Daniel came to therapy this session because that is a huge and devastating thing to learn–– especially when he doesn’t understand DID. Of course it made Daniel freak out. To be confronted with something so horrific is extremely distressing–– and for Daniel, as a father, being told that the inner child part of his partner feels like he is a pedophile raping him… it must really mess with his own sense of self and view of his morality. I tried to help Armand understand that, but it was clearly hard for him (and I think I understand why after the ending of our session. He’s so socially removed from present norms that it’s essentially another culture to him and doesn’t make sense based on what he learned early on… hundreds of years ago).

His response to me trying to flip the context and see things from Daniel’s POV was very telling. Armand’s experience of being cared for was also experienced in tandem with being violated, so to him this is normal. He doesn’t grasp how distressing it is for someone to hear their partner feels violated by their expression of love, because to him love is violating. I still don’t think he fully understands this, but he was clearly trying. His shame about his lack of understanding was evident, but he couldn’t voice it so I did. Sometimes clients need you to do this because they can not, they are too overwhelmed to find the right words to describe their experience so you have to become their translator. 

Another consistent theme relating to intimacy, enjoyment, and his alters is the fear of not being in control. So much of his life was outside of his control and now he also has other parts of him vying for agency. This is likely why he seeks control by any means–– he’s terrified of losing his autonomy. But he also speaks with an air of omniscience and authority, like he has the ability to control things or dictate outcomes in ways that are impossible (regardless of his status as a supernatural being). I think this is related to his split sense of self and deep wish to be able to be omniscient–– this likely comes from Arun, who is a child. Omniscience is a juvenile/ primitive defense mechanism that is very common in kids, i.e. I caused mom and dad to divorce, because I was mean to my sister she got sick… The omniscience is also intertwined with judgment, which likely comes from Armand–– the adult persecutor, harshly judging the innocent and naive child.

This thread flowed through our diagnosis conversation, including the discussion of autism. Again there was an air of knowing that was overly confident. He guessed correctly that I have autism–– which now that I’m reflecting, I think (despite not knowing exactly what the abilities of vampires are) that Armand was reading my mind. If he was, that feels very invasive and I need/ want to discuss this with him and place clear boundaries, but again it says so much about his trauma and need to control and understand. I decided to make the disclosure of my own diagnosis because there seemed to be therapeutic benefit in it for Armand. I would not have done so otherwise and he admitted that it would make him feel better if I was–– though again, I wonder if this answer was something he came up with after (maybe) reading my thoughts. I’ll have to ask next session.

When Daniel joined the session, my confidence in my ability as a therapist quickly plummeted. His whole demeanor was anxiety provoking for me, but I did my best. Again his avoidance was clear–– he left significant distance between himself and Armand, like intimacy in front of someone was too much. It was also interesting to me that Daniel’s face is much more expressive. It’s almost exaggerated in comparison. Armand is expressive, just not globally–– his micro-expressions are very diverse and his eyes emote much more than any other part of his face. I just found this interesting. This could be a manifestation of his autism, but again this is an assumption. Something similar manifested in their communication styles. Where Daniel displays a full range of emotions and variance in his tone, Armand is restricted and speaks in a very measured manner. The opposition is interesting.

When I pointed out Daniel’s use of humor, this expressiveness also manifested. I did not intend to be on the offensive with him, but I fear I came across this way. It was supposed to be an observation rather than a call out, but I think Daniel felt called out. He was clearly caught off guard that I had noticed this immediately. Then Armand jumped in, trying to take control again. I felt bad for calling him out on ignoring the rules I’d laid out–– it felt like I was chastising him a bit. It didn’t feel good and the early part of our session was very difficult for me in terms of maintaining my composure, attentiveness, and ability to maintain the frame. Things felt much better when Daniel began to speak in metaphor. That was comfortable and familiar to me. The use of humor to communicate his feelings also came up again. The cats and dogs comment was incredibly informative–– especially about their dynamic and how they view each other.

When I commented on Daniel’s ability to craft a powerful metaphor, his tone was (interestingly) dismissive. I felt his spoke to his avoidant attachment and his ego functions–– namely his defenses. It seems Daniel also fears and avoids praise in addition to closeness. But this is a very big assumption to make based on a singular moment in the span of an hour. Daniel was very closed off at first while Armand was displaying surprising levels of vulnerability, which was clearly hard for him. It honestly made me kind of angry at Daniel for not being more sensitive, but I had to keep reminding myself that his response was normal and valid. I think it was definitely triggering for me.

When Daniel began to detail some of Armand’s history to me, it seemed impossible for all of those things to have happened in the span of his apparent twenty-something years. But learning that he’s over 500 years old… now it makes way more sense. I was feeling so confused how he could’ve been trafficked, groomed, inducted into a cult, led said cult, had multiple partners who also dated each other, and have been with Daniel on and off for years while also having been with Louis for years. Glad it’s been clarified because I swear my brain was breaking trying to figure it out… though the 500 years old thing is also breaking my brain, but surprisingly less so.

Daniel was clearly upset and distressed by Armand’s actions throughout their relationship, the enabling in particular. Thus it became a major part of the session to psychoeducate both of them, but especially Daniel. It was vital to normalize how attachment impacts actions, how anxious-ambivalence would contribute to Armand enabling Daniel to maintain their relationship… it was important to provide context so they both better understood. The same went for normalizing DID for both of them. I’m not an expert and have never treated someone with DID, so I hope I did an okay job. I must admit I am a bit nervous going forward in treatment planning because I learned very little in school about DID and am mostly just pulling from my knowledge about trauma and internal family systems theory. I have since done a fair amount of research on DID because of Armand and have talked to those with DID on reddit to better understand their treatment experience as well as what their goals are. I don’t believe full integration is the answer in Armand’s case. I think we should instead aim for functional multiplicity where all alters communicate with each other. 

The first time I truly became shocked this session was when Armand brought up my assumption of him recreating his dynamic with Marius. I had never directly said this, which leads me to believe (again) that he must have read my mind… though maybe I am far more easy to read than I thought? It was surprising when Armand said he was acting like Marius and Daniel was in his role in the relationship and not what I had previously assumed–– though again, now knowing the actual age difference this makes far more sense. But I still don’t think it’s that black and white as I see patterns of “Amadeo’s” behavior towards Daniel in Armand. I think both things can be true.

There were points where the session felt like it was going off the rails and I struggled to know how to intervene, but ultimately I think it was a good thing that Armand and Daniel could safely be angry with each other. There were times I became very concerned, however it never went to such an extreme that I was unable to bring things back. I was able to give them tools to effectively communicate with each other–– which is ultimately what they came for. I’m really hoping it sinks in for both of them, but I especially hope that Daniel stops invalidating how Armand feels about Marius because he’s not ready to touch that yet and it clearly triggers him. I can empathize and understand Daniel’s anger about his memories being taken away and he was justified in his anger.

 It was absolutely a violation and not Armand’s decision to make, but I also hope Daniel can understand the why and let go of his anger because ultimately it’s hurting him. I’m not excusing what Armand did… It’s simply not serving Daniel to hold onto that. It’s also preventing him from understanding the what and why of Armand’s behavior. As I stated earlier, to Armand, much of the things he’s done to express his care for Daniel seem normal to him because that’s what he experienced. I hope that by highlighting this for both of them there is more understanding and patience for each other’s feelings. 

It became incredibly difficult for me to maintain my composure when Arun appeared. I think it was equally as difficult for Daniel. All of the talk about Marius and Armand reenacting his trauma onto Daniel triggered him so intensely that the child self came out. I also think that the recovering of memories or the discussion of memory and something comforting and beautiful being lost really spoke the Arun. It was devastating to see how emotional he became over how he missed his family and was angry that Marius had taken those memories from him. It is astonishing how much Armand has replicated what Marius had done to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such one to one reenactments. I think Arun manifesting and sharing his feelings helped Daniel better understand why Armand did what he did. I think it also helped Daniel better understand DID. I think it was actually a really positive and powerful thing (despite being triggered and overwhelmed) that Daniel got to see what Armand experiences. It makes it real, grounds it and takes it from a nebulous concept into something he can engage with, which it seems is important for someone like Daniel.

He also did exactly what I would recommend on instinct, which was lovely–– talking to Arun instead of Armand, giving Arun agency to decide. And really all Armand wanted was validation and reassurance that despite everything, Daniel still loved him and wouldn’t abandon him. I too spoke to Arun, wanted him to feel seen and heard, to help him feel safe. I don't think anyone feels like a safe person to him and I wouldn't presume to be that person, especially right now–– but I’m hoping our time together today helped him see he could trust an adult and could come to trust Daniel. 

I don’t have much else to say in terms of the session… my brain feels incredibly full and broken and I’m still reeling with the knowledge that my client is a 514 year-old vampire. Like what the fuck do I do with that? I can never tell anyone… I’ll sound crazy. I should’ve thought Armand and Daniel were crazy, but I immediately believed them. Then again I’ve always been interested in the supernatural. One of my aunts is a psychic… like professionally. I secretly wanted to meet a vampire when I was little. I watched Dracula’s Daughter so many times the tape got fucked up. Maybe I wanted it to be real… What does that say about me? This is a lot. I still can’t believe I fainted in session, too. That’s wild. I’ve fainted on my way to session, but never in session. I’m so confused. Maybe I have a concussion?! 

Also… side note, I felt extremely touched when Armand said he liked me. It makes sense that in his transference he would think of me like Bianca or Riccardo. I often remind people of their best friend, or to the kids I work with, I’ve been told I’m like the cool older cousin or sibling. It’s very sweet. It made me feel like I really have made a difference for him because he clearly struggles to trust people and now he views me in a similar position as two people he trusted most. It’s very validating to the work we’re doing when so much of therapy is about the relationship. But… I need a million naps… and a drink. I don’t drink often but I think learning vampires are real warrants a hefty glass of fireball…I’ll drink thinking about my dad and that trip we took to New Orleans my senior year of college. The one where he ordered me a cinnamon toast crunch shot at a gay bar and I saw the most beautiful burlesque dancer and became an idiot lesbian in front of my dad… and the vampire tour we took immediately after with the theater twink who looked like gay Orlando Bloom. Good times. One final word: FUCK.