billie eilish mental health imagines

we ended the cycle

trigger warning: mentions of getting sick/being sick

part two to never ending cycle

it took only a matter of seconds for me to place the clothes on my body, needing nothing more than the comfort that the warmth brought to me.

thankfully, eventhough i was struggling majorly due to my mind, it did bring me a sense of security that i desperately wanted to receive.

"are you feeling any better sweetheart?" maggie questioned, keeping her distance.

i didn't dare nod in response as, although i knew that i could be honest, i was fearful that i would jinx myself and end up making things worse.

so, instead of speaking, i allowed my eyes to flicker up to hers for a brief moment, giving her a moment to read my emotions through my stare.

"do you feel able to step outside?" she asked, showing that there was no pressure to.

outside?
i can't possible do that.
imagine how many germs are out there.
they'll be sitting on every surfaces.

instantly my head shook, not daring to even think about the amount of germs that would be sitting on the other side of the door.

i'm so much safer in here.
not completely safe but better than out there.
i don't want to leave this room.
never ever again.
i can't get sick.

at first i was expecting maggie to be offended by my
choice and potentially become irriatable or annoyed by the idea.

however it was clear that that wasn't the case as, after hearing my reply, maggie gave a simple understanding nod.

"i'm sorry." i muttered, embarrassed by the way that my brain was working.

yet still maggie seemed to be determined to convince me that i shouldn't feel guilty about the way that i was acting, even if it seemed reasonable to be.

"we can stay here for as long as you need sweetheart." she spoke softly.

but i don't want to stay here.
i'm not safe here either.
i want to go home.
i want to get into bed.
i want my brain to stop.

i attempted to give her a thankful smile in response, although i only seemed to manage a small burst of light within my eyes instead.

it was all the same to maggie as she wasn't sitting within my brain and having to fight the continued negativity that being so exhausted brought.

why can't i just go home?
i don't want to get sick but i want to go home.

the familiar crawling feeling returned to my skin as i shifted uncomfortably, noticing that the idea of getting sick was still cowering over me.

my eyes began to scan the room, desperately seeking comforting in picking apart and every piece of it and listing everything that was bothering me.

the sink has so many germs.
- people wash their hands
- people use the bathroom before they go there
- the taps have all the germs
i have all the germs.

the toilet has so many germs
- anyone could've been sick there
- everyone uses the bathroom and then flushes it
- the handle's covered in germs

the floor has so many germs
- people walk on it when they could've been anywhere
- feet are hardly ever clean
- shoes could've been on the floor
- shoes that have been outside