Mental mess

Panic attack

⚠️BIG TRIGGER WARNING SELF-HARM⚠️

// If you have it hard with the subject (self-harm) this is not the chapter for you and I would advise to skip this one, you won't miss much of the book//

The rest of the day it feels like James is ignoring me, I felt really guilty for not being with him but I just couldn't. I don't concentrate on bit that day and when I get home my mind is racing and it feels like my head is going to explode. I walk up the stairs to my room but I just walk I barely look where I'm walking, it feels like the whole world is spinning. When I get to my room I go in, close and lock the door behind me, I would lean against the door with my back and slide down and sit on the ground leaning against the door. The tears I had fought back all day began pouring down. Everything just felt so overwhelming, it felt like I couldn't breathe and I started to hyperventilate. My chest felt like it was on fire and my hands were shaking like crazy. I would stand up and try to ground myself but nothing worked. My mind was racing and without really thinking it over I walked over to the bathroom I'm my room, opened the cabinet and took out a small razor blade. I could feel the cold metal in my hand and I regretted what I was about to do but as my mind was racing I couldn't think straight and my chest felt like it was going to blow up.

I couldn't stop myself and I but the sharp metal against my skin and slowly pressed down. I could feel the wounds stinging, blood slowly dripping out from them and down on the floor. I did the same thing a couple of more times then I felt myself calm down a bit and I take a deep breathe. My head is clearing up a bit and when I look down at what I did to myself my heart drops to my stomach. What had I done? I quickly put the razor blade back into the cabinet and would start to clean my arm, I started crying more but I took some deep breaths while I took out a bandage and started wrapping it around my arm. When I was done I would clean up so there was no evidence of what I had done. I walk over to my bed with heavy steeps and flop down on it and just lay there staring at the ceiling. I could feel the wounds under the bandage stinging. How could I be so stupid to do this? I felt really bad about it and would just go to sleep early to not think so much about it. I really hated myself for doing what I did.