This is embarrassing. The first two times I took a hot bath in this life, I had flashbacks to when I was enslaved by the Legion. As far as their treatment of me goes, I was privileged due to being Caesar's doctor. A doctor has to be clean when unwillingly tending to his tyrannical, immunocompromised patient, right? Right. So. Yeah.
As soon as I was submerged in hot water, I remembered the hand in my hair, hands yanking me in every direction because some idiot thought the order to make sure I bathed meant doing it personally. Yeah, that didn't go over well. For anyone. Even after that incident, you can probably guess that having a bunch of soldiers watch you bathe is not the best experience. I remember the bath I took after Julie died. I couldn't do it, so they brought someone's slave in to wash me. Did she resent me? I would have. Here was this guy getting special treatment while people were lashed just for looking at someone in the face instead of the ground, for not doing a task fast enough. And he's getting regular baths and speaking out of turn in ways that would put any one else on a cross.
I don't know where I'm going with this. I still carry some guilt about the position I was in, the people I couldn't help.
The woman who washed me that night was beaten to death for eating food I gave her.
And here I am, doing a woe is me lap when I arguably had it better than any other person in that situation.
At least I can wash myself.
Baths are actually nice, once the memories fade and I can move. When I realize that there's no eyes on me, and I'm not there anymore. It'll get easier with time, probably. But yeah. That was an unexpected trigger.
Boo hoo, am I right?
.... Yeah. I don't know.
