Sarah Paulson mental health one-shots

Sarah Paulson: I think I'm dying.

TW/self-harm relapse, negative mindset, breakdown

I didn't plan on doing this. Every school presentation when I was little where I promised myself I'd be safe and I'd ask for help if I needed it... All broken now.

Now I'm sitting on my floor in front of my door, without a lock I'm the only thing keeping someone from walking in.  I sit on my floor, the blood slowly drips off my arm onto an old T-shirt. 'I ran out of alcohol wipes and antibiotic cream months ago, maybe I should go buy some... ' I think. <0125> I put my password into my phone and open my sober app.

Last Self-Harmed, 4 months, 12 days, and 36 seconds.

I scroll to the bottom of the page, the reset buttons appear and I click it.

Last Self-Harmer, 3 seconds ago.

I did so well, and then I found out I was failing two classes. I'm just waiting for my dad to yell at me. I set my phone down and look at my arm, blood has started to dry black in the dim lighting of my room. I take some bandaids I stole from my classroom at school and stick them over the deeper or larger cuts. The rest I just wipe until they stop bleeding. I clean off the razor and pull my dresser draw out and put the blade under it.

                              TIME SKIP NEXT MORNING

I walk into my 1st-period class, it's freezing inside. The heater in this building of the school never works and with Halloween coming up the air is cold and crisp. I pull the long sleeves of my shirt down farther and sit down for my lesson. Our teacher Ms. Paulson clears her throat and starts to take role-call. After she has a girl up front pass out a packet for today's lesson.  I stare down at the pieces of paper, god I hate packets. An hour later our bell rings, I stand to pack my bag and drop my paper. I grab it off the ground and start to pack my bag, my next "class" is study hall so I don't pull any books out.

I walk to the front and go to hand Ms. Paulson my paper. "Thanks, dear, I'm excited to see what you wrote on the topic this week." She says looking up from her computer. "Oh, ya thanks," I reply before going to leave, putting in earbuds so I can listen to the crime podcast that came out today. Halfway down the hall Ms. Paulson steps out of her room and calls my name. I don't hear her so she runs behind me and grabs my arm, I pull back and hiss as she grabs the fabric covering my cuts. I quickly pull out my earbuds and yank my hand from her.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to scare you... or hurt you..." She says quietly. "You left your notebook on your desk." She tells me. I look down at the floor embarrassed as she hands my book to me. "Y/N are you okay? Your arm, are you hurt?"

"Oh, no no I'm fine really," I tell her. I turn to walk away and leave Ms. Paulson suspicious in the hall.

Lunch comes around so I take the chance to go use the restroom, as I'm washing my hands I pull my sleeve up a bit, I hate wet sleeves with a burning passion. Anyone who's okay with them can fuck off. As I'm turned away from the door and getting soap from the dispenser the door opens. Ms. Paulson walks in and notices me, she looks at my arm and confirms her suspicions. "Y/N." I turn and see her saddened face. "Ms. Paulson are you okay?!" "I think that's supposed to be what I'm asking you," she says, I follow her eyes to my arm and pull my sleeves down fast.

"What's going on dear, really, and don't tell me your fine. Please, people, who are fine don't do that love." I glance away, I can't look at her, or I think I might cry. "No, don't ask me that please," I whisper. I try to leave the bathroom but she blocks me and puts her hand under my chin making me look at her. "Y/N really, please. You are my best student, your writing is better than the writing my college students use to write when I taught there.  Your drawings you leave on the back of your vocab sheets and those poems you write. You have so much going for you." "God, everyone makes up those excuses, no no it's not that stuff!" I start to cry, "If it was that easy this wouldn't be happening?"

"Okay okay, I'm sorry. I just, it's hard to think about how I can help you. "

"Trust me I know."

"Do you wanna tell me how you feel right now if you're comfortable?"

I look at her and slide down the wall by the sinks till I'm sitting on the ground, "I think I'm dying." I whisper. "I really think I'm dying, nothing is right. I feel nothing, everything is piercing white or dull." "Darling, can I touch you?" "..." I nod my head hesitantly, she sits down and wraps her arms around me.

"I'm not ready to tell you I'm sorry for doing it..."

"It's okay sweet girl, were going to get through it." She says rubbing the top of my arm that doesn't have any cuts.

AN: SORRY, IT'S SO LONG!! I don't like this very much... at all