SHORT STORIES

breakdown

[TW: Suicidal thoughts. You guys don't have to read this if you don't want to.]

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Something's supposed to happen. I'm supposed to get hurt. I'm supposed to look like I'm hurt, with scars and bruises. Something that is physically there. Something we can see.

The imprints on my skin dented by the bra.

I'm being suffocated by a fucking bra.

I am in pain. I can't breathe. My chest heaves up and down. My back hurts and I want to lie down but I'm crying and I can't breathe.

There are so many of these people staring...WHY ARE THEY STARING?

I want to get out of this. I feel this disgusting ball of sickness in the pit of my stomach. I can't feel good. I don't feel good. I haven't been feeling good.

WHY CAN'T I FEEL GOOD.

I'm suffocating. In my fucking bra.

Why are they yelling at me now? Did I do something wrong? Are they judging me? Am I crying?

I'm in pain, why can't they see this? Is it because I constantly reassure them I'm okay? Am I not allowed to do that? Why can't I just be okay?

I'm crying now.

I'm not in physical pain. Am I just dramatic, what the hell is this?

Is something wrong with me because I feel like I'm falling and screaming underwater, the water filling my lungs but I'm screaming. The screams are muffled but I hear them loud and clear.

My chest is tightening and I can't breathe. Do I have coronary heart disease? I'm crying more and I feel like My body is smashing against a wall. And no matter what they say to me, I can't hear it. It's underground - muffling, it's covered.

Like when you're about to throw up but you're not gonna.

I just feel unwell it's fucked up.

G-mail changed their logo, in fact, most google things change their logos. I'm torn because I know if I like this one or the old one better.

I need to get treatment for my anxiety. Like I feel like I need to get better like WTF.

I just feel like I'm ripping and everything is just so crammed so I can't breathe. everything is cloudy and blurry and vague. like this description, these are the very bad ones. I feel so drained but I'm not in the slightest burned out. I'm trapped and I'm screaming but no one can hear me. I'm just completely there. and then I realize my heartbeat is beating the same beat as stuck at the moment, slow steady but quick at its pace altogether. This makes it more wary and cold. it's not even cold and I'm sweating under the heat of the blanket because I'm shivering. It's almost blank and I can't do anything because how?

You know? I want to know what is going on with me! Now I'm mad. I am so furious, why the hell can't I just fucking calm down? I don't...I want to know, please.

It's almost like a ringing in my ear but there's no sound but it's like there. It blurs out the rest of the sound the world makes, my head hurts. I can't think all that much which is so fucking weird that I'm writing this now. but every time I got it I just need to talk about it. I'm writing about it, will this make me feel better?

I hate school.

Then there's the overwhelming feeling you get when you're about to cry. It starts off slow sometimes, most times tears roll down my cheeks without me being able to realize it because I'm in the ultimate stage of shock. I need to get self-confidence.

I drink water because that's what they always say, take deep breaths. I do but I'm still in pain, I feel like throwing up more thinking of the burger I stuffed in my mouth hours ago, my mind is permanently distant. I feel so unwell.

But this is temporary. I know because I've had so many of these I just remember it being really short and I felt I was being way too dramatic.

Self-deprecation: belittling or undervaluing oneself; excessively modest.

Sometimes I don't feel anything and I'm just so numb.

I cry and cry and it's draining and sad and maddening.

There's so much screaming I want to do, bellowing out the pain and hurt I feel on the inside.

And maybe it's this immense feeling of sadness that's piercing through my skin, pricking through like needles, like a knife scraping madly against the rough skin of my arms and my body, pulling out my guts and it will all just be a big, bloody, fucking mess - that's making me sound like a fucking poet.

But in these moments - I'm not afraid to die. I am mentally and physically just dead. I don't mind falling off a cliff or cutting my arms in half. I just already feel so tired and drained.

I can't handle anything - I'm hopeless.

I have no self. I don't even know me.

Our bodies might just be a sort of being or something that picks it up and controls it, toys with its brain and its emotions. it's almost just fine. but it's not.

No one really listens to you. it's really weird but they don't. they say it, but then they try and manipulate the words and scramble them up to get what they want. They don't really care about you until you give them what they want, and when you do, it's draining and worthless - when you don't, you've hurt them and it's your fault when it really isn't. But then in ways, it is.

It's stupid.

And I stood there crying in hopes that he'd just walk over and hug me and tell me everything was going to be okay and I didn't need to feel stress. not.

It never really happens.

No one really knows until you say, signals don't work anymore.

I'm yelling and screaming I don't care - doesn't really scream "I'm in pain wtf is wrong with me" anymore.

It's frustrating. I reach for the clasp of the bra, but my hands feel small. I can't reach it, it's making me so mad.

They're holding me - I'm running so fast, I'm running. Can't you see? I know I'm moving my legs because I'm sprinting and I feel like I'm flying. But they're in front of me.

They're leaving me. I stop running.

I reach for the clasp. I take a deep breath.

It's off. I'm free.

Let it out and breathe.