You'll Never Be Whole Until You Lose Control- Spencer Reid

Chapter 36: Everything I Wanted

"And you say

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"

Don't wanna lie here, but you can learn to

If I could change the way that you see yourself

You wouldn't wonder why here

They don't deserve you

I tried to scream

But my head was underwater" Everything I Wanted, Billie Eilish

This chapter contains Anna dealing with a trigger for her eating disorder and graphically describes trichotillomania (hair pulling) it also includes a punishment scene.

18+ as always

Anna

I was having a bad day.

I spilled coffee down myself as I was unlocking the door to the shop. Strike one.

I was helping a customer and knocked into a display and shattered a piece of amber. A fossil that had literally existed for thousands and thousands of years until my dumbass broke it. Strike two.

"I'm looking for a crystal pendant for my girlfriend. I want it to be big but still understated so it doesn't look like it's wearing her. She's built a little bit bigger, kind of like you." ((Authors note: This is a real thing that happened to me, love that for me))

Strike mother-fucking three.

His comment made my skin burn. Everything felt like it was crashing around me and tears welled up in my eyes.

Becca took over helping him while I went into the back room. The tears spilled but that was the least of it. My wrists were on fire. I could feel it burning me inside out, begging for a release.

But I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I ran into the bathroom and turned the faucet on; ice cold. I shoved my wrists beneath the stream while gasping for air. All I could think about was how skinny I used to be, and how disgustingly fat I was now.

"Fuck me," I cried, mascara staining my tears black as they dripped down my face and into the sink. My reflection was hideous in the mirror.

It took me a while to put myself back together. I was completely out of it. Numbness had taken over, and it was better than feeling. I wiped my face clean and patted cold water onto the red skin. I sniffled and reapplied mascara to my eyes from the little in case of emergency makeup bag I carried with me.

I probably should have texted Spencer; he always told me I could come to him for anything and he would put down whatever he was doing to be there for me. But I couldn't help myself from feeling that my problems were so insignificant compared to his- that my bad body image was stupid when the man had literally been tortured.

I could be strong for him.

Maybe.

So I busied myself with working on our social media and packing online orders while it was quiet. I couldn't help my hand from wandering to my hairline. It was out of my control as I started picking at my scalp, and I was in a trance-like state as I pulled the first hair by the root. Then another. And another. It was near euphoric.

It wasn't long before I had a small but noticeable bald spot on the side of my head, skin blistering and raw. It was probably the size of a nickel, and the shame I suddenly felt was immense. Luckily, it could easily be hid by the rest of my hair.

Spencer was going to be disappointed with me. Iwas disappointed with me. It had been months since I had a bad bought with my trichotillomania. I developed it for a sense of control when I had been released from inpatient treatment for my eating disorder and couldn't cope with gaining weight. I have been clean of cutting for four years at this point, but you could count trich as a form of self harm.