billie eilish mental health imagines

it's not what it looks like ⚠️

a/n: contains themes of self harm throughout. if that's a triggering topic for you, read at your own risk.

i wasn't sure what had triggered me today but, after a long day of countless attacks being hurled around my head, i was exhausted.

you know what to do.
you know what will make you feel better.
you know exactly what you need.

billie and i were sat down watching a film after we'd finished dinner, the same way we did every night, but i wasn't focused on it at all.

go on!
you know you want to!
can't you feel it?
that itching on your wrist.

i writhed uncomfortably, moving my sleeve down harshly before rubbing my hand heavily across my wrist to relieve the sensation.

it wasn't the best pain to take away that burning, but it worked well and was discrete enough that billie wouldn't notice. 

don't you want to do it?
don't you want to stop the pain?
don't you want to make yourself feel better?

"is everything okay?" billie questioned, noticing that i couldn't sit still.

i nodded, sitting on top of my hand as not to draw anymore attention to myself.

it wasn't my best move as i still couldn't seem to focus on the film, unsure of where we'd got to or what the storyline was.

you've got to get rid of this urge.
you only have one choice.
the one thing that works.
there's only one way to fix this.

so, in a last attempt to save myself before the voices got too loud, i excused myself.

"sorry i think i'm gonna go to the bathroom." i told billie.

she nodded, seemingly happy with my excuse and not willing to push it further which, in a way, hurt a little.

in some weird way, i wished that she knew exactly what i was planning to do and that she'd try and stop me in some way.

you want attention.
all you want is attention.
so do it.
do it and you'll get all the attention you want.

but it wasn't that kind of attention that i wanted, i just wanted people to care about me in a way that made me feel wanted.

billie was the closest that i'd come to feeling wanted and loved, and i never wanted that to change.

"is everything okay y/n? you seem...spacey." billie spoke.

i returned myself to the conversation, noticing that i hadn't moved from my position on the couch and, instead, had made myself more comfortable.

what are you waiting for?
why are you still there?

"sorry! i keep forgetting what i'm doing." i told her, laughing it off as best as i could.

so i headed away from the living room, moving myself into the bathroom before finding a seat on the familiar cold tiles.

it wasn't often that i was here, maybe once or twice a week, but when i did find myself in this position then i struggled to stop myself.

one could turn to two, then five and then the possibility of mutilating my whole body would arise without me even realising it.

don't you love that feeling?
that feeling of sheer pain that nothing can heal?
watching it escape from your body?

i twiddled the shiny metal inbetween my fingers, watching closely as it shone differently in certain lighting.