Hold On To Him | Jonas Brothers

Chapter 1

Nick's P.O.V.
As soon as she left on her trip, I knew I wouldn't be okay. I tried to hold on for as long as I could, but I couldn't keep it together.

Despite her not being okay herself, she kind of kept me going.

I knew I couldn't go to Kevin, he just had a child. It's not his fault. He had someone else to look after. Someone more important than his brother.

Joe got caught up with friends and everything around it that he wasn't home often. He kept checking me in the middle of the nights, which I was thankful for.

I can't blame either of them, and I don't. I don't blame them. I can't blame them for having a life of their own. I blame myself. Always have and always will.

At first I lived with it. I was doing my own things. Joe was still present at the time. As were our parents and Frankie. It just wasn't enough. At some point Joe went out more often and sometimes stayed a whole day away from home.

I depend on my sibling to stay alive. I can't do it myself. I shouldn't put that weight on their shoulders, but I'm stupid.

I would ask for help and they helped me. But it wasn't enough. I hurt myself often by not checking my levels.

It was impossible to keep up with them. They were killing me. I was high, then low, then high again. They made me so tired.

Mom kept a closer eye on me when I started to sleep in more often, stayed up all night and barely ate, or when I binged.

She called Kevin over to talk to me, so he came over. He sat me down and we talked.

I tried to figure out for myself if it it was worth to lie to him. I then realised it wouldn't do anyone any good, so I told him the truth.

I told him about my struggles and I told him how low I felt of myself. How I lost a lot of weight. Even more weight than the amount of weight I had lost around the time I was diagnosed.

To say he was scared was an understatement. He was terrified by my revelations.

I had them all fooled, knowing I was much worse than I have ever been.

Somewhere through the conversation, he asked me where Joe was. I explained he was out and about. Like he'd been everyday by that point.

Kevin didn't like that, but I convinced him not to scold Joe. He deserves a life and was not hired to babysit me.

After that conversation, I did something terrible.

I felt so guilty about worrying Kevin so much and for distracting him and pulling him away from his family to talk about my problems.

I hurt myself with a blade. I was so upset that I decided I wanted to forget. The pain made me forget. I was occupied for hours and haven't had a care in the world.

I made sure to clean everything up before Joe would come home. I'm sure Kevin reached out to him to tell him about everything we had talked about.

I wasn't wrong. Joe came home and ran around the house, yelling for me until he found me in Pippa's room.

When he stood in the doorway, his sad smile faltered and he didn't say a thing. I stood up, copying his posture, not knowing what he was going to do.

"I'm so sorry." He walked up to me and hugged me tightly. "It's not your fault. Don't ever think that." I said before I broke down in his arms.

He sat down with me and we talked. I was so done with talking about all of my problems that I begged him to stop. Kevin had told him everything anyways, why did he want me to tell them to him as well?

He let it go, but promised me he was going to help me get active and in better shape and better health.

He kept his promise. He dragged me out of bed in the mornings. He created a morning routine for us to do with a little stretching and such. He made me go on his morning runs  about three mornings a week. We started with three miles and he would up it with one mile each week.

I was in no shape to run more than 3 miles the first week. I'd still been out of breath by the end of the week. He tortured me and laughed it off.

He would check me for me. I wanted to do it myself, knowing I should have been mature enough to do it myself, but I couldn't. Something kept me from checking myself. So he had to do it for me.

Joe always told me he didn't mind it, that my health was more important to him than anything else. It didn't stop the guilt from eating me away. I secretly kept hurting myself.

I still do it nowadays. Even after Pippa's return.

I'm sure that if someone finds out, it'll be her. I can't stop. It's an addiction. Like alcohol and drugs.

When I can't sleep, I take three sleeping pills. I hide them in my bedside drawer in the lowest one. Far in the back behind all the other things. I can't have anyone find them. They'll surely think I'm planning on doing something. I have before, so I wouldn't blame them if the thought crosses their mind.

It's wrong and it's bad. I know it all and I've heard it all before.

I don't want my family to hate me. I never meet anyone's expectation.

I tried to write music. To distract myself from everything. I've tried other things to get my mind of everything. Nothing works as good as when I'm high or when I'm hurting myself. It makes me want to cry.

I've been having a lot of thoughts lately and none of them are good. The person I am, the person who I've become. I don't like that person. I look in the mirror and all I can see is disgust towards myself.

I've tried to fight. But it's hard.