All Too Unwell

Words Break me Down

TW: self-harm, suicidal thoughts.

When we got a break, Charlotte and I were laughing at a TikTok Sophia had posted as one of the tour managers looked over at us with disapproval. "Hey, didn't she die like a month ago? Are you glad she's gone?"

The words cut deep. Was I not grieving right? My therapist said that any emotions I feel whilst grieving are normal and valid. Then again, a therapist is paid to make me feel better. At least that's what the internet is saying. I bite the side of my cheek in an attempt to hold back floodgates of tears. The guy scoffs. "I'm not Taylor. You can't guilt trip me into feeling bad for a piece of trash like you by crying," he sneers.

Memories of my parents yelling at me for crying rise to the surface. I've always cried when someone yells at me or I think they're mad at me. I've never intended to 'guilt trip' anyone. "That's not what I'm tryi-"

"Oh cut it. You were laughing at her death and now you think you can play the victim? When you technically had a role in it? You dated the person who killed her, you're technically an accomplice!" he continues.

Taylor was normally a very patient and understanding person. That didn't extend to when someone was outright horrible to someone she cares about, though. 

"You're no longer a part of this tour. You need to leave, and you can forget this month's paycheck. I hope you never talk to anyone like that again. I will be sure to notify anyone you work for about your bullying behavior, and this isn't the first time I've heard about this." I hear Taylor's voice, angrier than I've ever heard it. Tree is behind her, sporting the most menacing glare I have ever seen.

"Please don't let his words effect you; he's just mean to everyone. Everyone grieves differently and your ex's actions are not your fault." Taylor reassures her tone drastically softer, bringing me and Charlotte into a hug. I would accept comfort but the other part of me wants to reject it and take this out on myself. How could someone who is having fun and laughing a month after one of their friend's died a good person? How does a bad person deserve comfort? Taylor pulls me closer to her, stroking my hair "It's alright. You're not a bad person, just breathe right now, Ok? That's all I want you to focus on," she says, pulling back a little bit to assess my face. I look down so she won't see the shock and guilt written all over my face. "Aww sweetie, it's ok. You don't have to hide your feelings here," She says gently. 

"I need a moment," I say, pulling myself out of the hug.

"It's ok. Do you promise you're going to be safe while you take some time alone?" Taylor asks, giving me her serious face.

"Yeah," the lie slips out so easily.

3rd Person pov:

Taylor didn't believe her young dancer so easily; she planned on checking on her soon. She understood that people sometimes need space to process their emotions, but with Mirabelle's mental health history she was naturally worried. She wished she could take all of her pain away with a hug and words of reassurance, but she knew she couldn't. She continues to hold Charlotte, who has also been having a hard time.

Mirabelle's pov:

I make my way to the bathroom and pull out the piece of silver metal, holding it my palm. My hands are unsteady right now and I don't want to accidentally cut too deep and cause a scene. Once the trembling has slowed down, I started slashing the metal across my thighs, watching the blood flow out. Watching 3 months clean become stained with the scarlet reminder that I'll never break a bad habit. I deserve this. I deserve all of the pain. I am a bad friend. A bad dancer, A bad person. The guilt keeps breaking me down until I'm on the bathroom floor, burying my face in my arms.

"Hey, you've been gone for a while so I decided to check up on you," I hear Gracie's voice. Oh shit.

"Yeah. I guess I've not been eating enough fiber so you know..." I say, recoiling at my own remark. The truth is, my bad habits have made me a good liar.

"I know that's not true. Come out please," Gracie says.

"I'm sorry," I say

"Whatever you're sorry for just let us help," I hear Taylor say next.

"We won't be mad or disappointed. But we need to make sure you're safe." Taylor says.

I open the stall door, blade between my fingers.

"I need you to give that to me, sweetie." Taylor says, staying calm.

I carefully hand over the blade, not wanting to hurt her. She quickly goes to a stall and flushes it down the toilet.

"What the hell was that?!" I exclaim in panic. Usually Taylor tells me what she is going to do. Does this mean she's unpredictable? Will she end up hurting me? Taylor takes a moment to compose herself and respond. Gracie turns to me. "Sometimes it's hard to make good decisions when you're going through something. I understand feeling attached to bad habits but you're ignoring the underlying problem in the long run." Gracie says, taking my hands and squeezing them.

Taylor turns to me, her eyes filled with sadness and worry. "I asked you if you were going to be safe, and then you hurt yourself. Right now I don't feel like I can trust you to make the decisions that are good for you, so I intervened. I'm sorry for being so abrupt lately, but I'm really worried about you, baby. I've tried not to say it before because I know you'll feel bad, but I can't hold it back anymore. I'm always worried about you and wondering what you'll do to yourself. I love you to a million pieces and it would break me into a million more if you weren't alive. Yes, it can be hard at times, it can be hard for a long time. But you are needed here and I'm not letting you do anything that could make it so that you're not." Taylor says, tears streaming down her face from confessing unspoken emotions.

The atmosphere is dim and heavy. I knew that I was damaging her all along. If she didn't care so much, I'd just kill myself. I've always felt like that would make her life easier. But she also really seems to care and wouldn't want me to end my life.

She proceeds to pull me into the biggest hug, squeezing me like she was scared I'd randomly break away.

"I know everything is against your favor right now. It's ok to be upset, and I understand why you turned to some coping skills that are harmful. But, that doesn't mean I'm going to let you keep doing these things to yourself. I just wish you could see how worthy you are of all good things in life," Taylor says. Gracie starts rubbing my back. "I've had some bad habits too because I was so scared of sharing my emotions with other people and I thought it was better to handle it alone. I learned that you don't have to do it all alone; you just need to find a support system of people who will listen and support you," Gracie says.

"You'll be staying with one of us until we know that you can be safe by yourself. If you want to shave, you'll have to leave the door open and it cant be more than five minutes. I understand wanting privacy and that's why the door just needs to be open, but no one will watch you. Whenever you feel these urges, please talk to someone you trust. We're having these rules with you because we both love and care about you," Taylor continues, rocking me in her arms. I don't know how long she's been holding me, but she's not letting go.