TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains sensitive subjects and very explicit content about depression, suicidal thoughts and self harm. Please keep in mind that this story is fiction. Read at your own risk, because this oneshot could really be a trigger. If you're struggling with any of these subjects or if you have any questions about it, please don't ever be afraid to talk to me. Things will get better, even if feeling okay seems really fucking far away.
Story plot: Yeosang is not okay but how are you suppose to tell such a thing when you debuted and everything in your life seems to be going beyond perfect. During the day, Yeosang is capable of putting on a happy show for everyone and they all seem to buy it. At night though, Yeosang is fighting a battle. A battle with his own mind. Voices that keep repeating the same words over and over again, are driving him insane. But there is help and there is someone who cares; Hongjoong.
The past two months have been something that can only be described as hell to Yeosang. Somehow after they debuted everything just went downhill for him. While all the other members seemed to be climbing a wonderful mountain, Yeosang felt like he was left behind at the bottom. He could see how much they enjoyed this. The wonderful feeling of actually debuting on a stage. Yeosang didn't feel wonderful, he felt awful and he didn't understand why.
It felt like he was there but he wasn't at the same time. He's always been a very reserved guy, so nobody seems to notice how his mind is starting to play more and more tricks on him.
It seemed like the whole debut triggered something inside in his mind. For about an hour he was happy and it all seemed like a dream coming true, but that feeling quickly passed and turned into a feeling of sadness and anxiety.
It happened. We debuted. This is going to be my life from now on. But is this what I want? Does this make me happy? Will all the hard work be enough to rise to the stop. He didn't have much time to think about it all because Wooyoung was being all hyped and excited about them debuting together. One of the many promises they made when they were only trainees. So he went along with it and pretended to be just as happy as his best friend.
As their Expedition Tour starts, Yeosang is feeling miserable. Why does everyone want to go see the world? What's so beautiful about this all? I really don't want to go outside today, I just want to stay in my room and cuddle up in bed. Everyone seems so happy about this all, why can't I be happy. What the fuck is wrong with me?!
They have a night off and Yeosang is staying in his room while the others went out for dinner. He told them he wasn't hungry, which wasn't really a lie. He wasn't hungry, but he never really is anymore. It's as if eating isn't interesting enough. He honestly doesn't really care about anything at this point anymore. As long as he doesn't understand why he's feeling this way, he's not going to bother anyone with it.
I can't even explain myself. How could I expect them to understand when I don't even fucking understand myself anymore at this point.
The sadness he felt the past 2 months made room for a different feeling, if you can even call it a feeling. Yeosang can only describe it as numb. It's a weird sensation. He doesn't feel the sadness all day long anymore, only at night, but he doesn't feel okay either. It's some weird thin line between going insane and feeling sane.
He's staring outside his bedroom window. The sky is dark, which is somehow quite comforting. He is dark. He feels dark. It's nice when it's dark outside.
But he found his escape. Something that makes him feel. It's his secret and no one may know about it. They'll probably think he's insane and that he should get locked up. No one would understand.
He sits up taking the small grey bag from his nightstand and unzips it. Inside the bag is a sharp knife. His escape to make him feel again.
He presses the blade against his left arm dragging the knife across it, tearing his skin apart. He bites down on his lip and repeats it. Over and over again until he's made about ten fresh cuts. He watches the blood form and slide down his arm. He feels. He finally feels something again. He closes his eyes and breaths.
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