Open mind
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- Parts 5
I was sitting on my bed, staring into the mirror. Crisis management. That's what it was called. It was better for me to go there, I knew that. But it was so soon. First the doctor had said that it might take a while before she got me in there. I had been prepared for it. I would have a normal weekend with horse riding and after that I would go to that crisis management. I'd live there for six weeks to calm down; but mostly to be safe from myself.
I looked down at my left wrist. Fresh red lines covered my forearm. To be honest, I wasn't disgusted by them. Right now at least. Sometimes I wanted to vomit at the sight of my body. Sometimes I found those wounds pretty. I liked touching them and feeling that painful tingle. I didn't want to stop doing this to myself, but I knew I had to and that breaking out of the habit would make me feel better about myself. After all, I couldn't keep them hidden all my life. I was already tired of the questions of what happened when I was wearing a bandage.
I just hoped that it would be like the doctor said. That I could do my own things and that the caretakers were only there to watch you. It would be good for me to leave my home for a while; live my life just the same, but without the pressure of people I knew.
'Lotus! Are you coming for dinner?' I let out a deep sigh. 'Yes!' I yelled back at my mom. I wasn't hungry at all actually. With slow steps I walked downstairs. My last dinner at home. I should at least eat something in case the food there was terrible.
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[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ Depression
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