Lifes Red Strings

An Old Habit

I'm shaking again.

The shaking won't stop.

It's getting worse.

I sigh as my head twitches to the left to my shoulder and my arms and jaw shiver and shake. My Tourette syndrome is acting up. And this yelling coming form my mother's mouth in front of me isn't helping. I need to calm down before my lungs give out again. I make an excuse after my mother stopped yelling and run to the restroom. I pant as I feel my lungs begin to twitch within me and my breathing becomes shaky. I frantically search the bathroom until I open a cabinet and let a sigh of relief escape my shivering lips. I found what I needed. I reach up my twitching hand and grab the one thing to calm my nerves.

Rubbing alcohol.

I pop it open and watch the clear liquid sway as I hold the container with shaky hands and quivering lungs. I stand over the sink and look at myself. I see a half dead shell of a person. Pale skin, bloodshot eyes, dark lips, dark circles under my eyes, messy hair, bruises across my body, and a tired expression upon my face. I shake my head as it twitches to the left again, taking me out of my thoughts and I slowly put my hands over the sink. I slowly pour the clear liquid over my hand and I let out a satisfied sigh as I shiver at the cold feeling of the liquid hitting my rough skin. I quickly set the bottle on the counter next to me and rub the alcohol in my hands. I inhale the strong wafting scent of the alcohol and exhale with relief as the smell calms me. I rub my hands together and feel the cool liquid slowly disappear and leave my hands rough and clean. I frown lightly as the liquid dries and I pour it again, doing the same thing. I do this in three. Once, twice, thrice, it feels wonderful. But in the end, my hands crack and bleed and leave my hands with dry, flaky skin. But to me, it's worth it. My shaking ceases and I put the alcohol back in the shelf in the exact position I found it in so I don't get caught. I look at my hands and rub my palm with my other hand's index finger and shiver lightly as I feel my rough skin. I sigh and slip on my white butler-like gloves and open the bathroom door. I use these to hide my hands and so I don't feel "dirty". After I had started this habit, anything I touch after my little routine, my hands feel as though I dipped them in oil or I feel as though they are filthy. I can't stand it. I pour my 91% Isopropyl Alcohol (rubbing alcohol) over my hands around 3-15 times a day. And I have to lie to get more alcohol. It has become a bad habit. But it is all I have to calm my nerves and ease my mind.

It's an old habit.

*This was a true story about me*