sarah paulson ⠀╱ 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 .

chapter 1: tormented [sarah p]

trigger warning: eating disorders (anorexia), body dysmorphia, intrusive thoughts, and thoughts of self-harm

chapter 1: tormented [sarah p.]

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the definition of tormented is defined as experiencing or characterized by severe physical or mental suffering.

the complexities of life are far beyond the fairytale bullshit that is so sickly engraved into the susceptible minds of children. that a mere kiss from your prince charming would diminish the never-ending mental chaos. no matter how many times you tried to conjure up a smile to hide behind, the tears wheeling up in your eyes always gave it away.

you felt trapped. suffocated. tormented by the uncontrollably intrusive thoughts from the moment you woke up till it was time for bed. the thoughts of hopelessness were inescapable, creeping around every corner, grabbing onto you from every which way.

leaning against the bathroom wall until you found yourself inching closer to the floor, aggressively covering your mouth and inwardly taunting yourself as silent sobs left your mouth. pitiful whimpers slipped out of your mouth. pathetic. it's your fault. you let them do this to you. take control and ruin everything you've worked for.

she told me once i physically recovered the mental recovery would come with it. fucking liar. just as fast as i was made to gain the weight, i was losing it.

tears made their way down your alarmingly pale face and eye bags. holding onto the scissors in your hand for deal life as your body lay motionless on the cold tile floor. i wanna die. i can't escape this.

sarah paulson. hollywood star. the lady who's terrified of clowns and small holes. and the glamorous bullshit and red carpet people know her from. to you see was your safe space. nights when the intrusive thoughts would be screaming at you, and it would start hurting physically, she would cradle you in her arms. whispering that you were safe and that she wouldn't allow you to hurt yourself. in her arms, you could scream or cry as loud as you need to; all she would do was hold onto you tightly. there were nights when she had first found you wandering around and made the decision to take care of you that she would hold you for hours to ensure you felt safe.

she didn't have to take you in that night, but you looked so pale and emaciated. it wasn't solely the appearance, but the sadness behind your eyes, how you had to coax yourself to not flinch when she first tried to come near you and ask why you were out so late at night.

sarah had done so much for you. yet you relapsed and felt like a failure. anorexia was insufferable, but it allowed you to cope and numb yourself from the inside out. it was hard to let go of the one thing that had numbed you from years of neglect and trauma.

managing to regain composer, you lifted yourself up to look at your dysmorphic view of your hideous body. you only had on a pair of underwear and a bra. your lip quivered at sight it saw in the mirror, and your thoughts began to unravel at far too quick of a pass to process it accordingly. all you saw was fat.

just cut the fat off.

this was a horrifyingly familiar intrusive thought, and it was inescapable. it always crept back into your head, and you felt too fragile to ignore it.

too focused on the reflection of yourself the door knob twisting open hadn't caught your attention, but the pitiful gasp snapped you back to reality for a moment.

"give me the scissors, baby." sarah coaxed you, but you backed away at the request. "look at me, baby. look at me. focus on me and listen to my voice, nothing else."

there was too much going on around you, and processing it was becoming increasingly difficult. it was evident to sarah that your sensory overloud had been triggered. she inched closer to you with every step you took back until you felt the wall against your back.