Grian Angst |~One Shots~|

|~Numb~|

Grian bottles up his feelings and is generally quite depressed

TW: Self harm, attempted suicide, blood, really bad depression): ,insomnia, not eating, lots of self hatred, mentioned past torture (let me know if there's more, this is a pretty triggering one!!)

Grians POV

Everything I did felt meaningless. Every smile I shone felt saddening. Every thought i had was depressing. Everything in this world to me was numb.

I think after having bottled up my feelings and trauma for so long, it all started to get to me. I realized every flaw about myself, I remember every mistake I've ever made. I recount every harsh word that was said to me. And I think I'm starting to belive it.

After all, they wouldn't lie to me. I really am just that horrible.

After all the times of being stabbed in the back, the aspect of getting a therapist.. someone who knew my deepest secrets terrified me. After all, with so much information at their fingertips, they could easily betray me, make others hate me, leave me.

I don't want to be left alone again - I don't think my heart can take it.

And I'm defiently not going to vent to someone on hermitcraft if it's the last thing I do. They all have their own problems. Compared to mine, theirs are probably so much larger. They don't have room in their lives for even more stress. It wouldn't be fair to them.

So I clammed up.

At first, I was still my usual self - grinning ear to ear playing pranks. Then, I started to notice all my flaws. Then, i started to get self-conscious of my actions. And then I started to shut myself off from the rest of the world.

I still had conversations, but I tried to keep them light and short. I still fished and built, but nowadays, I seem to spend more time in my room than anything.

I tried my best to stay out of big group events, only showing up to the mandatory ones and making countless excuses to disappear to my room for a few days.

And then I found a new way of relieving stress.

I found an old iron sword lying in my empty chests after having just returned from finishing the roof of my house.

Thoughts overwhelmed me of all the small imperfections of the build and how many mistakes I made and what I could've done differently.

Then, an idea came to mind.

Cautiously, I raised the sword to my wrist before closing my eyes shut tightly and dragging the blade across my wrist.

Blood came dripping out of the just fresh wound.

It hurt, of course. But so did my thoughts. And this new kind of pain was so much better. Unbelivabley better. I loved it. My thoughts would halt, and my body would suddenly completely forget about the mental torture and instead focus its attention elsewhere. It was addicting almost.

And so I did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then I took out my first aid kit to bandage it up.

I took the time to carefully wrap up the wound tightly so the bandages couldn't get caught on anything and accidentally unravel.

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Present time