Please Don't Save Me [BkDk]

I Dont Need Therapy!

IZUKU POV:(Chapter 9)
_________________
!!TW!!
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Swearing
Mentions of attempted suicide
Mentions of self harm
Mentions of panic attack
Self hatred
Self harm
_________________________________

"Are you alright now, dearie?" Recovery girl asked softly. She made sure that the blanket around me was suited to be comfortable. She then proceeded to check over my physical situation, but not before asking me if it was alright due to my current state of mind.

Her gentle touch made me feel a little at ease. Considering how I wouldn't let anyone else come near me in this state, well..maybe one other person.. but also logically thinking about how she is the only person that can heal me in UA.

A little thought in the back of my mind occurred. Why was she in the hospital? I thought she had to stay in UA, and considering how I was taken to a hospital, why was she here?

It was like she had read my mind, because shortly after she replied to my personal thought.

"Well dearie, I was called to assess your well-being.
However, I see you are not as well as others had originally thought. Have you and Aizawa discussed having sessions with Hound dog yet?" Her sweet voice chirped.

I was glad she was talking to me rather than anyone else. However, the immediate thought of therapy with that mind fucker made me feel like I was going to be sick. That fucker better not get anywhere near me or else I'll jump out a window like I did before.

"I don't need therapy" I say with a slight grumble in my voice, chewing on my lip slightly. A singular tear rolled down my face as I quickly covered my face with the blinding sheets, I refused to get therapy, I didn't fucking need it.

Anyone else could have help, but they insisted on my having it. Kacchan had more fucking trauma than I did, he was captured by the sludge villain because of my selfish desires. He was kidnapped because I couldn't save him quick enough. I can't fucking do anything, I'm useless, I'm worthless, I'm selfish, I'm dumb. I'm so fucking ugly.

SO WHY THE FUCK DO THEY INSIST ON MAKING ME GO TO FUCKING THERAPY?!

It makes me feel sick, I swear to god...there are so many other people suffering and they only focus on me. I feel terrible, absolutely fucking terrible. I'm a selfish asshole, I got everyone else involved in my business, and now they want to help me. They really don't need to.

I don't need therapy. Not before, not now, and not ever. And if they keep asking, I'm going to make sure they aren't able to ask again. I suddenly flinched as I felt a hand on my shoulder, I quickly relaxed as I realised it was recovery girl. I almost forgot she was here.

I realise that I was slightly shaking. So much that I had to readjust my entire position, I look down and see my arms covered in slightly bloodied bandages, I feel a strange feeling surge through my body as I murmur a question to Recovery Girl.

"C-could I excuse myself to the bathroom?" She looks at me a little wary but then nods as I quickly stand up and rush to the bathroom. I lock the door and look at myself in the mirror, thoughts rushing consistently through my head as grasped at my hair, clawing at my chest as I tried to copy a breathing exercise which deemed to be useless.

I started frantically looking throughout the room for anything I could use to stop the thoughts, to relieve the pain, to feel better, my legs moved faster than my thoughts as I wizzed around the room, opening every cabinet and drawer, only finding bandages and plasters everywhere which drove me mad.

One thing, relief, it's all I fucking wanted, and now it was gone, I can't get anything right, no relief, no reason to life. It's fucking useless, I stand up and start pacing as I grip at my hair again, tugging at it and pulling my hair while pounding on my head, my mind was running everywhere and I couldn't think straight.