Breathe

Inside Her Head (TW! c*tting, su*c*de, d*pression)

     Breathe, Becca. Control your thoughts. Don't let them control you, she thought to herself. It was getting harder and harder to focus on whatever she was doing. The thoughts would invade her mind and refuse to leave, no matter how hard she tried to push them away. 

     What thoughts? The easier question was what thoughts didn't  she have. Some of it was simple 'girl' things, like if she looked ok and if that cute boy behind her noticed and liked her. Other parts were really strange or random things, like the difference between kelp and seaweed or if snails were flammable. 

     Then there were the bad things. The things that made her want to cut and watch the blood drip, or to go to sleep and never wake up. The thoughts that make her imagine taking an axe to someone's neck, or throwing them off a building and hearing them scream as they fell to their death. Not pretty thoughts, but satisfying ones. 

     The problem she had wasn't that she didn't think things through; it was that she thought too much. It cluttered in her mind to where it would feel like she had a weight in her skull. She would have a bad or dangerous idea, then her small, shriveled logical side would try to reason her out of it. Then she would think and think until she found a way to justify it. Most of the time, 'it' was self harm.

     Becca didn't like doing it. When she got emotional, the thoughts and feelings would suffocate her, physically and literally. The only relief she got was cutting. Other times she did it to punish her self for her ugliness inside and out. The remainder of the time it was simply because she got a sick pleasure from watching herself bleed. The after effects were horrible, though.

     She could never lie to her inner circle. Not to Alec, her best guy friend, who she told everything to. Not to Vesta, her best friend period. Not to Taylor, the person who was like a sister to her.  Not to Will, who was like a brother to her. Taylor didn't really judge, though did try and help Becca find other ways of release. Vesta and Will would essentially do the same. Alec, on the other hand, was rough. She swore she could she the disappointment on his face, and his voice would become full of pity.  He would plead with her to stop, but she had a feeling he didn't truly understand. It was the only way for her to survive, even if it was also killing her.

     Becca hated the scars on her body more than anything, and right after she would do it she'd feel sick and guilty, knowing she had failed and was pathetic. That only made her want to punish herself more, and even if she could resist, the urge would seep into every corner of her consciousness, demanding that she give in to temptation. She wanted to see the blood, she wanted to see the proof that she was appropriately in pain. Give in to hate or desire; the end result was the same. That is what no one seemed to understand. Everything always circled back to the cuts. 

     More guilt weighed on her as she thought of what her significant other would think. Becca was a bisexual, who was currently dating the aforementioned cute boy. He knew what she did, and assured her that it was ok, but she wasn't sure. She could never go to him. She was afraid that he would leave, and that she would feel that horrible numbness she had felt for months. Anything related to him always had her on edge. Becca was afraid of pushing him away, but also afraid that while trying prevent that she would push him away anyways. There never seemed to be any good options. No, for her, everything would end in pain. She just had to put it off for as long as possible. 

     How could anything be good for her? She was idiotic, plain and undesirable, and had a bad habit of talking too much in an attempt to cover up the silence that would force her to be with her thoughts. Becca couldn't decide if her 'friends' pitied her, or were only trying to see how long they could make her believe that they cared. She never knew anything.