I’ve been wearing the same black cloth shorts and gray knitted sweater for the past week now. My hair hasn’t been brushed in days. This is what my life has come to. The dark circles under my eyes become more prominent with lack of sleep.
She keeps telling me I need help, my sister that is.
I need to see a therapist or something. That’s what she always tells me. My life is a mess and nothing good is ever going to come out of it is I don’t get help.
Help, that word makes me sick. Just because I suffer from insomnia doesn’t mean I need help. Just because my OCD makes harm myself emotionally and physically since my life isn’t perfect, doesn’t mean I need help.
When you need help, it means that you’re weak. I’m not weak, maybe I am but I will never show that.
So now here I am, sitting in my useless bed thinking about how life could be better. My back is resting against the headboard and I’m staring out the dirty window that shows me the skyline of the city. I wish I had the strength to leave my small flat, but I feel so frail. The last time I ate was two weeks ago. Yes I’m hungry but the little voice in my head told me that eating will make my life worse so I refuse to touch food.
So now, I sit here in on my bed, surrounded by these four white walls deep in thought; thinking about how I will never ever fall asleep…
[I couldn't wait any longer and i had to update! I hope you like it! Please vote and comment with some feedback! I'll have the next chapter up soon. Thanks! xo]
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sleep // styles {au}
Fanfiction"Sleep is for the weak. Well that's what the demons that hide inside told me..."
