"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬" 𝐦.𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝟏.𝟐. Relapses are okay.

Part 2 "I want to stop running away."

Matthew has a relapse and takes it badly, but his brothers are there to tell him that falls are okay.

TW: self-harm detailed, blood, mental breakdown, doctors, sewing wounds, depression, addiction, addiction relapse, suicidal thoughts.

If you don't feel up to the task or any of the above warnings affect you badly, DO NOT READ

ZERO ROMANTICIZING HARMFUL BEHAVIORS. IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING WITH SOMETHING SIMILAR, GET HELP!

Nothing could go right that day.

Matt already felt a tremendous weight on his shoulders, back, heart and, above all, his lungs the moment he opened his eyes that morning. For the first few seconds he didn't make any movement, just stuck his gaze blankly in front of him - or, more precisely, at the white closet door. However, he knew that despite his bad mood, he had to force himself to get out of bed. Ignoring the sharp palpitations of his heart and his hands trembling with unknown anxiety, he raised his sluggish body to a sitting position. He sat motionless for a while, trying to gather the rest of his strength to somehow start this hellish day, but after a few minutes he let out the air in a gesture of surrender. He focused slightly on his surroundings. From behind a door somewhere in the living room, he could hear the muffled voices of his brothers. The ticking of the clock filled the silence in the room. It was ten o'clock in the morning. Matt had barely slept five hours. Willingly, unwillingly, the last few days his sleep problems had returned, and to make matters worse, with redoubled force. Even so, he kept quiet about it anyway, knowing that he had made a bit of a mess of things through his mental health lately anyway. He quickly glanced at the calendar and... oh.

He was two months clean. It was January nineteenth, and the last time a razor cut his skin was November nineteenth. For those two months, you could say he was doing better. Even very much better. He was under the care of psychotherapists and psychiatrists, but he knew he still had a long way to go. But he was motivated by the thought that he had wonderful brothers, great friends and parents who loved him.

So well... when he felt that damn familiar, suffocating feeling from two months ago about a week ago, he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about it. The fear and the thought of disappointing others was too overwhelming.

Reluctantly, he slid off the mattress and went to the closet pulling out a plain white T-shirt, an unbuttoned black sweatshirt and one pair of jeans. In the bathroom, he took a shower and brushed his teeth. He made the movements rather reluctantly, as he couldn't find the strength in himself, but he did it anyway quite quickly, counting down the minutes in his head, knowing full well that after a certain time his worried brothers would knock on the door.

Fortunately, that didn't happen. He got out of the bathroom just in time and headed for the kitchen. In the living room were his brothers. They were both doing something on their laptops, but the moment their brother's presence beckoned they quickly shifted their attention to him.

Matt bit his lip, noticing the fatigue on their faces. The last few days all three of them had been working a lot and had a slight upside when it came to Youtube, so the middle triplet was all the more reluctant to inform them of his deteriorating mood.

It didn't matter, it will pass someday anyway. - thought Matt.

- Morning, sleepyhead. - muttered in his direction Nicolas. He quickly illustrated his silhouette, then returned to the laptop screen.