Lean on a friend

Sky

And all of the sudden, the sky was gone. It wasn't muddied or gray like most people thought it would be, it just disappeared. That's just how it was sometimes when I would get overwhelmed and depression and anxiety would loom over me. Sometimes it was brief and sometimes it lasted longer. I would have panic attacks, anxiety attacks, I would dissociate, and go completely numb. Like I couldn't feel anything physically or emotionally. But, I would feel lost, like I had no control over anything. There was no traumatic event that led up to this, mental illness can be hereditary and it seems I'm just unlucky.

When it gets bad enough, I would do anything to feel even if that feeling was pain and hurt. And I wanted to control how it happened. At those times I would take blades to my thighs and use lighters to burn myself. I kept everything in places easily hidden, my upper thighs and my torso. There are 7 years worth of scars on that part of my body.

It's been over 5 years since the last time I genuinely considered taking my own life. I'm getting better with the help of lots of therapy and sadly, lots of medicines. Sometimes I'm scared that if I get better I won't know who I am anymore. If I think about that too much, it gets bad again and I hurt myself sometimes hoping to feel something and gain control of that stupid brain of mine.

Volleyball has made a huge impact in my life. I don't know what I'd do if I lost the sport or the people I play it with. I like having these genuine friends. They don't pity me, or look at me with sorrow in their eyes, they don't pester me by making sure I'm taking my meds and eating the proper amount of food. I really am getting better and I can take care of myself. That's why none of them know. I hate making people worry, and I think if they knew the dynamic would shift and they wouldn't see me anymore, just my mental illnesses. So I decided to keep it a secret.

I never change where people can see me and at training camps, I slip away during dinner to take my pills without anyone noticing.

I smile the brightest, and honestly, that's not part of me trying to hide my mental health issues. I think people forget that depression and anxiety don't mean you're never happy, and volleyball and my friends make me happy. Since I've been getting better, the smile seems to always be there. I've been doing good. It's been 2 weeks since I last burned myself. That might sound recent but considering I did it daily if not multiple times a day in junior high, that is a huge improvement.

I don't want to tell my team, I'm getting better, and I can take care of myself.

I was adamant about no one on the team finding out and I did a really good job at hiding, that was until I didn't.

I was in the clubroom after I thought everyone had left and I was changing out of my practice clothes. As I was standing shirtless trying to find where I had set my change of clothes I heard a hesitant "...Hinata?"

I turn around to see Suga standing in the doorway.

"Uhh... hi Suga. What brings you back to the clubroom?"

"Are you okay...?"

"Course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

And then it hits me. Suga has just seen my mangled torso, and now he's probably freaking out and going into mom-mode.

I grab the first shirt I saw and put it on as quickly as humanly possible.

"Hinata, what were those?"

Play dumb

"What were what?"

Not that dumb

"Did someone do that to you?"

"No one did anything to me. I'm perfectly perfect. I really don't get what you're freaking out about."

"Those weren't just bruises from volleyball. Those were scars. Where did you get them? Who did this to you?"

I sigh deeply and my smile drops as I look up at Suga. "No one did this to me." I hesitate. I trust Suga. And I don't think there is an easy way out of this. "I did."

Suga's face contorted into one I had never seen before, so filled with worry, confusion, and frustration. His eyes darting from one part of my body to another. I was covered and none of the markings were visible, but that didn't seem to matter. He had seen them, and now it was like he had memorized where every single one was. I felt like I was being put under a microscope.

It was a while before Suga said anything and when he finally did, all it was was a muffled, "Why?"

I didn't know what to say. Sometimes I can't feel anything so I decide to feel pain. Sometimes the only thing I feel like I can control is how long I keep a flame against my skin, or how deep I push a blade. I think that might just break him.

"I'm okay, Suga. I promise."

He didn't believe me. Why would he?

"I've got some mental health issues, but I'm getting better. What you saw is all relatively old. It's been weeks."

Suga remained quiet. I couldn't tell you what was going on in his mind. I searched for answers in his eyes, but I didn't find any. "Suga," I tried again, "please, Suga. Don't worry about it. Don't worry about me."

"Don't worry?" He finally yelled, "How am I not supposed to worry after finding out that one of my kohai has been dealing with all of this on his own?"

"Suga, I-"

"How am I supposed to forgive myself for not noticing that you were hurting?"

"Suga-"

"How do I see you and do nothing?"

"Suga, I swear, I'm getting help. I take medicine and I go to therapy. I'm okay."

"Hinata, you don't look okay. You look like you're about to cry."

"What?"  I hadn't even noticed the stinging behind my eyes or the fact that my vision was getting blurry. It was like I had managed to convince myself that I was okay. I collapsed onto the floor of the clubroom and cried like I hadn't in ages. I had forgotten how good it felt to cry. With my face buried in my hand, I didn't notice Suga crouching down next to me but, when he pulled me in for a hug it was like I melted. I forgot what it was like to lean on people, both metaphorically and literally.