Caffeine Withdrawals: An Unspoken Collaboration

Perfect

​"I don't need it. I don't need it. I don't need it." I repeat over and over again to myself as I rock back and forth in the corner of my room. I twirl the sharp razor blade between my figures, loving the way the cold medal feels against my skin, knowing that if I would just let it sink in I'd feel loads better. But I can't. I'm better than this. I feel a new wave of tears travel down my cheeks as I realize I'm not. But I won' t cut. I've come too far.

​"Oh well would you look at this," says a menacing voice that sounds too much like my own. "Poor me, poor me, poor me," with each repeatof the mock sadness I feel a sharp jab to my gut. I know it's only in my head but I can't help but flinch at each assault. "It's pathetic. You're pathetic." I try to escape the voice, but how do you escape yourself? "I don't know why you're crying," I feel my free hand viciously wipe at my tear stained face. "This is entirely your fault." I was about to ask what, but the answer is clear. Everything. It's all my fault.

​"God, you really don't get it do you?" the voice ask obviously annoyed. "This is what happens." There's a short pause "You mess up."

​ I know. I know.

​"That's all you ever do."

​Please stop.

​"Mess up."

​You're right.

​"I don't know why you even try anymore."

​I don't either.

​"You know you're not good enough,"

​Good enough, for what?

​"For anything, really."

​Oh.

​"Now, can you tell me why you're not good enough."

​I don't want to say it, "I'm not perfect." The words come out in a barely audible whisper.

​"I'm sorry, what was that?" the smugness of the voice is almost worse than its cruelty.

​I force my voice to grow louder, "I'm not perfect."

​"Alright," says the voice with mockery, obviously not pleased with my volume, "One. More. Time."

​I growl each word, forcing them through my teeth. "I'm. Not. Perfect!" But as soon as the strength appears it's gone, and I'm left sobbing.

​"You're not perfect." I can practically hear the girl in my head tapping her chin. "You're right." She agrees in a cheery voice. "You're not perfect, but you are."

​"Stupid." I take in a sharp breath at the blow the word delivers

​"Annoying." I can't help but to close my eyes against the attack.

​"Pa-the-tic." I flinch as she pronounces each syllable.

​"And let's not forget worthless." A new wave of tears has started to travel down my cheeks. "So very worthless."

​I'm sorry.

​"It's almost tragic." For just a second, the menacing voice shows mercy. "Such a waste of potential."

​I'm so so sorry.

​"I'd feel sorry for you if I wasn't here, wasting my precious time, trying to help you."

​I breathe a sigh. She cares. She has to care.

​"Poor, pathetic. Worthless," her voice changes form a growl to its natural melody. "You."

​I know, I'm sorry.

​"I mean, how many times do we have to go through this before it sinks into that pretty little head of yours?"

​I'm trying, I really am.

​She ignores me. She always ignores me. "You need the perfect grades."

​I have them, I swear!

​"The perfect friends!"

​I'm trying, but I can't control them.

​"The perfect everything!"

​I know. I'm sorry.

​"You need to think perfect!" I flinch away from her shout.

​"You need to act perfect!" She comes at me from the other side

​"You need to be perfect!" I involuntarily let out a whimper.

​"Perfect!"

​Flinch.

​"Perfect!"

​Flinch.

​"Perfect!"

​Flinch.

​I ready myself for another outburst but it never comes.

​"But, you're not perfect." The voice sounds overly cheery. "You're pathetic." She's right. She's always right. "That's why you need this." I take the razor between my thumb and forefinger. "That's why you need me." She says as I drag it across my skin.

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