Stress kills.
A disease of the mind; It will eat away at you slowly.
You go to the grocery store, you mull over the various different kinds of cereals and take quite a while to decide. The old woman behind you scoffs and decides to switch aisles while you take your time. You sigh, and accidentally grab a box you hate.
It's too late now, other people will see your stupidity if you put it back. You go to the checkout.
You don't eat, you don't even know why you went out to get food in the first place.
You sit down in your room. It's always quiet, no matter what. It feels cold and dark, yet it is the only room you find solace in.
You keep your knees close to your chest, always fearing you are too far away from everyone-yourself included. Hug your knee tighter, you are lonely. You can bury your face into it and softly cry, though you don't exactly know why.
Most days it is a slow burn. Some days it is sharp, like your father's sudden drunken anger when you ask a question or accidentally complain about your day at school. It isn't slow, it is painfully sharp. Somehow everything is so far away and you can hear your own breathing in your ears and you feel the tears well up so quickly you barely realize they are there. Pick your skin, again,
again again again again again again again.
Wait for the breathing to slow, or not. Those days are worse. The breathing never slows, so instead you go into your cold room again and sob quietly and rock back and forth a lot. You never feel satisfied. The tears escaping your eyes never adequately fill the insatiable pit that lies in your chest. But then again, it is mostly a slow burn.
You go out with your friends, maybe to get some food or go swimming. It is summer after all right? But you hate the way you look in that swim suit, you just decide to ignore that. You catch yourself smiling and laughing along to the conversation, questioning what was even just said. Am I real?
Your boyfriend really is so lovely. He holds open every door for you and kisses the back of your hands when you least expect it. He is wonderful: His smile showcases his perfectly straight and beautiful teeth; It accompanies his eyes in the best way, raising them slightly at the edges. He is amazing.
Your room is cold again. Listen to music, but not too loud, something bad could happen. Is the door locked? Why does the corner of the room make your stomach drop in that horrifying way? Stop biting your nails, it is a bad habit. You're so awful. Those girls on that app look so pretty, perfect smooth skin and only the smallest bit of fat in the places it matters most. Whatever, scroll, it doesn't matter.
Your nightmares never end because they torment you during your waking hours. You can't forget the hatefulness spewing from your parents mouths towards the child they didn't-really-mean-to-have-but-wanted-to-be-better-than-their-parents. Why did your boyfriend at 15 have to do and say those things to you?
Maybe if you had cut yourself better you'd have a real story to tell. Did you switch over the laundry? Oh my god you didn't. Idiot idiot idiot. Your head hurts again. The headaches are so bad sometimes you just lay face down in the pillow and cry. You scoff in the mirror. You gained weight again? Didn't you just lose like 6 pounds? God you're letting yourself go. Your skin looks amazing though! Oh- wait no. Your acne is getting worse too. How sad. Whatever, you turn the bathroom light off and decide to forget about it again.
Your desk is hot, uncomfortably hot. It is fun to be by. You write and play games or watch shows, how nice! Your own personal living room. Take the trash out, you're disgusting why do you keep leaving the trash.
You are so tired in a way that doesn't really make sense. It is 8 PM and summer, the sun has just barely gone down. You are so tired. Your knees are held close to your chest again. You can't cry. You listen to music, but never too loud because it's night and you always need to listen for people who might break in and kill you and your entire family. Your eyes are so dark now. Google why your eyelids are brown. Oh, anxiety and sleep deprivation. You hate your singing voice now. You used to get a few compliments, you felt proud. You always feel out of breath now.
The future is so bright! There is so much to look forward to! You are so scared. Pace back and forth, now do it again. Why is it so overwhelming? Every time you think your lip quivers and you fight back tears. This is so exhausting. Google why you cry so much. Depression. Anxiety. Okay.
This song is so good. The darkness fills your entire room. You might hear some bugs making noise outside your window again. You stopped noticing that so long ago. You're so exhausted, it's hard to focus. Your brain is foggy, always foggy. You forget the words for things a lot, sometimes you don't really make sense. You laugh it off around people. That will make you cry later. You stopped playing guitar, why? Is it because you knew you'd never be good, like with every other skill? Yeah, that's kind of harsh maybe.
You run errands. Gas is so expensive. Oh I still need to get things from another store. You sigh a little too loudly. It's just another day really.
Your car is really quiet on the drive back home. You forget to turn the music on. That's okay. The quiet drive eases your mind a bit, until you think of 115 different scenarios in which a nearby car would kill you instantly.
You grip the steering wheel a little tighter, it's been a tough week.
