Nightwing Oneshots

Robin V

⚠️Mentions of Self Harm | Depression | Mention of Death | Mental Health Struggles⚠️

"I don't know how to describe it," I muttered, picking relentlessly at the scars on my wrist. "Sometimes I feel... upset, about my own feelings. Like, I know its okay to feel sad or angry about things, but sometimes I feel really guilty about it, and I don't know why."

My therapist nodded and wrote something down on his clipboard. I kept staring at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact. My fingernail suddenly lodged itself underneath a scab and ripped it off, causing a kind of recent wound to begin bleeding again. I flinched and grabbed a tissue off of his desk to stop the bleeding. 

"So... you feel guilty about being mad or sad about things?" he asked. 

I shrugged, dabbing at the blood leaking from my wound and keeping my eyes locked on the floor. "I guess."

"Is this a new behavior that you've noticed?" he questioned.

I thought for a moment. "I don't know. I think it's always been there, but its gotten worse recently."

"Guilt or shame about things is a common symptom of PTSD," he said. "It seems like every time you come here we find more and more symptoms of it."

I hummed quietly in agreement and kept staring at the ground. I could feel his eyes on me but I always struggled with eye contact, so I didn't look up.

"Do you want to talk more about your self harm?" he asked gently. 

My eyebrows furrowed. "I guess. I don't usually enjoy talking about it."

"Well, if it makes you uncomfortable, I don't want you to talk about it," he said. "But just know that no matter what you choose, we will eventually have to talk more about it, whether you are comfortable or not."

I sighed and looked at both my wrists. My left wrist was littered in scars; it was so bad that not a single patch of skin didn't have a scar on it. I stopped cutting on that wrist a while back; now I used my right wrist because there was a lot more clean skin and it was a fresh start.

"Well, I don't think I've been getting any better," I admitted. "It seems like I always feel the need to hurt myself in some sort of way. And other times I just feel so... numb, that it helps me feel something again. And especially with trying to deal with Wally's death..."

I trailed off, clenching my bloody tissue tightly in my hand. Wally's death... That was still a very touchy subject for me. I knew it had been 2 years since that had happened, but I was never very good with overcoming the deaths of people I was close to.

"Have you tried any of the solutions we've been over?" he asked.

I shrugged once again. "I've tried some of them but it's not the same. I always still feel numb, so I always resort back to doing that."

Don't forget to vote and comment! Constructive criticism is welcome!

-ziakalar