My mask of happiness.

Chapter two

A few weeks later.

----------------------------------------------

I laid in bed with my earphones in, music on. I didn't have the energy to get up this morning, or afternoon for that matter. My dad kept coming in and reminding me how lazy I was being. I wish he knew how much the things he says to me hurt, depression drains your energy, it takes all your motivation away, to the point where you just lay there in bed and think whats the point in getting up?You have nothing to get up for. I knew my parents wouldn't care about what was wrong with me, why would anyone. My own boyfriend didn't want to know me anymore, he had ignored for me for days, I sat up in my bed and started wondering about what happened a few days ago.

When I got that text my heart dropped and smashed into a million pieces, the only person who had helped me and stuck by me, was leaving me, left me without a reason. I don't blame him for wanting to leave me, I wouldn't be able to put up with myself either, I mean I'm just a mess. I tried to talk to him for days, but that's when he just ignored me, so today I came to the conclusion that he clearly never wanted to speak to me again or sort things out so I took the hint and deleted his number.

"It's 4pm, are you planning to stay in bed all day?" My dad turned my light on, and I closed my eyes to pretend I was asleep. "I cant believe you are still in bed, never met anyone more lazier." He continued going on and on at me. He eventually left. I thought I best get up and get a shower, but then I fell back asleep. I woke up at 2am, even I couldn't believe I had slept that long, I felt worse than ever. The horrible thoughts going round in my head, I wished they would go away but they never would. 

"You will never be good enough"

"why do you think he left you?"

"Look at you, disgusting!"

"You might as well leave, and end this pain."

"Go on, just a few cuts." They whispered. I couldn't cope, I had no one there for me, I dragged the blade across my skin, ripping it open. My skin around the cuts puffed up, and the blood began to come out, I felt that tingle and burn but then it felt good, like a relief. It helped take all the pain in the inside and put it on the outside, but when that feeling stopped all the hurt came back. So I thought, 'Just one more'. I carried on, cut after cut, tears streaming down my face, I couldn't stop, it was an addiction. After I wiped away the blood, and washed my arm. I pulled down my sleeve and hid my ugly horrible arm covered in cuts. "No wonder he left" I sighed to myself.