That Which Doesn't Kill You, Just Fucks With Your Mind

The Struggle To Stay Alive

It wasn't enough. It didn't mask the pain. It didn't sober the thoughts that ran through my tainted mind. I should have been dancing, singing, laughing like crazy. But instead I sat and moped. Molded into the couch I turned to for comfort.

The pills lay scattered across the glass table. The cigarettes were packed neatly in their box and my lighter stood guard right next to them. I didn't have a problem. I wasn't a drug addict. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop swallowing more pills than said. I needed them to sleep, to be okay. I needed them to live.

My eye lids felt heavy but I couldn't give in just yet. I pulled myself off the couch and crawled on the floor to the kitchen. Maybe just a snack. I thought. I pulled myself and I pulled myself. I could do this. I'd done it times and times before. But tonight my arms felt like noodles and my brain swam in a swamp of confusion. I couldn't do it. I laughed myself to the ground. I laid on my stomach and laughed and laughed. I laughed until the sun came up and everything wasn't funny anymore. I sobbed. I sobbed and I sobbed. Another night without sleep. Another night had passed where I, once again, tried to overdose.

* * * * *

My eyes were pasted on the ceiling and my stomach churned. It felt like days had passed when in reality only one night had. Keys jingled outside of the apartment door but I didn't move. I couldn't. Claire opened the door wide and laughed as she hung up the phone.

"You won't believe what- Blaze! Oh my god!" Claire dropped all her things and rushed over to me. Her arms picked me up and her face twisted with worry. All my sick, twisted self could do was smirk. "Blaze what did you do?!" Claire yelled and looked around the room. Once she saw the pills on the table, she stood up and gathered them up.

"No!" I yelled and struggled to get up. I had to stop her. Claire ran to the bathroom and I followed carefully. I made a grab for her hand but it was too late. The small circular pills floated in the water in the toilet. In one swift movement, Claire flushed the toilet and walked out. I gawked at the toilet. My life, my everything, my happiness. All gone. Down the drain. Literally.

I fell to my knees and sobbed softly. Claire came up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder. I smacked it away and glared at her. "Claire... How could you?"

She shook her head. "It needed to be done. You're ruining yourself, Blaze. This needs to stop! You're gonna kill yourself!"

I stood up quick, too quick. "That's the point." I mumbled and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes had dark circles and my black hair looked unruly. My shoulder bones peeked out through my skin and my tank top gently covered the most of me. It's not like Claire was wrong. But she wasn't fully right. I wanted to be happy, I wanted to be okay. And if that meant dying, then so be it.

I stared at Claire through the mirror and her eyes, caked in makeup, stared back. Her mouth was moving but I didn't hear a sound. I couldn't make out her words so I just stared. And just before it hit, I heard my name. "Blaze!"

I threw myself at the toilet and let it go. Claire's hands fumbled to catch my hair and I heaved. I threw up my life, my depression, my happiness, and all I'd ever known. She was right; this needed to stop.

We sat at the table and I glared at the coffee in my possession. Foxy, our Miniature Pincher, twined herself in my legs. I meekly smiled down on her and closed my eyes. Claire sighed and I looked at her.

"You need rehab Georgia." I rolled my eyes and growled.

"That's not my fucking name and no I don't."

"It is your name and yes you do."

"Don't call me that." I got up and plopped myself on the couch. I was cursed with the name. I couldn't escape it. What kind of parents name their child Georgia? Did I look like a Georgia? No. Did I want to be one? Hell no. My parents were good people. Had their hearts in the right place, threw extravagant parties, anything you could imagine. And yes, they were rich. But I chose the path they looked over. I wanted to be my own, make my own name and not just break off of them. Unfortunately, that's not how it had gone so far. Claire was right. I needed help. But not rehab. I needed happiness. I needed something more than all of.... This. I mentally motioned around myself and smirked.

"Claire, I don't need rehab. I need something good."

"Like a boyfriend?" Claire pipped up. I rolled my eyes. She had been trying to get me guys since as long as I can remember. I didn't want a guy. I didn't need one.

"No." I sternly answered. "I need fun." I jumped up and made my way to the shower. Maybe getting out wouldn't be so bad.

Boy, was I wrong.