Under My Skin

What It Takes

"Kevin..? Can I come in?" Connor asked through the door, after his first attempt at knocking was ignored "...I know you're in there, there isn't anywhere else you can be... can I come in? I miss you."

With a stomach full of dread I opened the door. He sighed with relief upon seeing me. I think he thought I may have done something. I think he thought I may have hurt myself. I hadn't. Though I don't blame him for thinking it, I haven't been angry with anyone in a long while. I haven't had anyone to be angry with in a long while. I don't know what to do with it. What to do with myself.

God, when I say it aloud, it sounds like I'm not even a functional human being. Maybe I'm not. I did have to have my caretaker talk me to sleep over the phone last night. Maybe I'm not as functional as I thought.

"Kevin.. you look so handsome." He smiled

"I look the same as always.... what do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to you.."

"About what?"

"About last night... Kevin, I'm sorry" he lifted his hand to my bicep.

"Don't touch me" I quickly cut him off

Taken back, he removed his hand

"...I'm sorry.. Can I come in?"

"I don't..."

"Please?"

After filling a few long seconds with hesitation, I agreed with a nod, stepping aside and opening up the doorway for him.

He looked cute. His same orange-brown flannel underneath his rolled denim jacket, all atop a plain white t-shirt. There was a little hole in the jacket where his pin used to be. The one he'd given me. It's nothing I'd wear, that outfit. It's nothing I'd consider wearing. But it suits him. He looks good in it. It compliments him.
God, I can't even be mad at him right.

"Kev, I'm sorry, I wasn't defending him-"

"Yes you were"

"Kevvy.."

"Don't talk down to me! You know what you were doing! A-And my name is Kevin, I'm not a child! You can't just say anything and I'll believe you! Don't treat me like I'm stupid, I-I was there last night, too, I know what happened, I may be naive, but I know what you said, you can't just convince me otherwise, I'm gullible but I'm not that gullible!"

"Kevin-"

"No! I-I'm not going to stand here and just let you justify defending him!"

"Can't we just talk? Kevin, I just want to be here for you, I just want to make you happy.. I'm sorry.. your parents would want you to be happy. I-I think they'd want-"

"Don't you dare talk about my parents" I cut him off abruptly "you don't know my parents, don't you ever pretend you do! Don't you ever try to speak for them, you don't know a damn about them! .....Get out"

".....what?"

"Get out." I repeated

"...Kevin"

"I said get out!"

In a moment of rage I've never had, I pushed him backward out the door, walking all the way.

Connor went silent, starting to stare as he waited for me to realize what I'd done. And I'll tell you, that realization was painful.

It was like my heart stopped. Like my throat closed. I couldn't see straight, all of the sudden, it was static as a wave of nausea washed over me. I stifled a gag as I desperately stumbled back for the door, only stopping when I'd hit a wall.

"...Kevin, Baby, are you okay?" He rushed up in an attempt to aid me, though my anger pushed through

"Don't call me Baby!" I snapped, staring straight out as I tried to find a point to fixate on, my breathing becoming fast-paced

"Kevin, just let me get you inside, okay?" He sent his hands up to my shoulders, which I swatted away before he could land them

"Get away from me, I don't want to see you again"

"Kev, you need to get inside.."

"Just leave! Please, for the love of God, just fucking leave already! Haven't you done enough? Go!" I shouted at nearly the top of my lungs, making him stop

I was appalled by my own language. But I'd already said it and I can't go back. Besides, he was just as shocked. It was finally enough to drill my point in.

"....I'm sorry" Connor whispered under his breath, before rushing away, knowing his absence was the only thing that would get me back inside to safety.

Once I locked that door behind me, all Hell broke loose in my head. It was like really loud music that you couldn't turn down. It was only getting louder and faster. I thought my head was going to explode. My thoughts were racing. Racing was an understatement, they were speeding through me faster than time can count, spiraling.

In an attempt to ground myself, I slammed my hand down on my leg. The pain only lingered for a second. Not nearly enough for me to feel real again. With a big deep breath I raised my hand and threw it back down, this time on the counter. It immediately drew a yell out of me. A loud, painful cry, my hand now throbbing.

"Agh- gosh.... darn it!" I 'cursed' aloud, finally within just enough control over myself to censor my language. Though not enough to control the volume. It hurt my throat, it was so loud.

As the pain in my hand started to disperse, I felt everything closing in on me. I was so dizzy I could hardly see four feet in front of me. My head was pounding.
There's a good reason I haven't gone that far out in four years. And it's showing through, now.

Come on, Kevin, think. What does the doctor always tell you to do? Think, think, think.

Oh god, I can't think.

What does he tell me to do? I can't remember a thing right now. Though, I'm not sure we ever had a plan in place for if I accidentally stumble outside while pushing my boyfriend out for defending my parents' murderer.
And I don't think I can Google that.

At a loss, I resorted to my usual coping mechanisms. My usual, unhealthy coping mechanisms. I started to picks, the scabs on my wrist from previous attacks soon open once again.

My clothes were starting to feel suffocating already.

I'm not somebody who likes to be undressed. I don't even let myself look in the mirror when I'm changing or getting out of the shower. The more clothing, the better. But something about my anxiety, once I start to panic, it's like my clothes are suffocating me. All of a sudden, They're hot and tight and choking me, I can't stand to have them on my body. Sometimes I can get away with just removing my shirt and shoes. I get to keep my undershirt and pants. But sometimes, it's all too much, I end up curled up on the floor in my underwear.

It's not a fun experience. And once it starts, I'm left wondering if I'll be left with the protection of any clothing at all.