I'm okay (5sos ot4)

1

Present(ish)

I wake up in my bed alone. My stomach is still empty but I don't plan on filling it.

I go into the bathroom and see that everyone has there own area and meds. I hide my razor, the only thing they see is a toothbrush.

Luke has his depression pills and testosterone. Ashton-over the counter "lady pills" (so he's girl enough on girl days but guy enough on guy days), and anxiety pills. Michael- depression pills.

They all have various hair products and such, but I still have barely anything. Just a toothbrush, like I'm simply sleeping over.

I brush my teeth and leave my repulsing reflection. I hate it so much. I'm so average and my nose is to big and my hair is boring but I can't copy Michael. I feel like shit. I want to grab my razor, but the boys will suspect something. Ashton just got off depression meds, I don't want to steal his spotlight, though he's so generous he would give it up. Not that they would notice me taking a few minutes longer. They will though, they're waiting for me to get out.

So I do. I want to go back to bed. I won't though. I have an appointment for a therapist. Ugh I hate that, it's so conceded to think of myself so much that I need to talk to someone. Ashton, Luke, Michael and the rest of this fucking world have real problems.

It's not something that I'll do forever, it's only for 1 week then they'll give me prescriptions since I have a feeling I have to have something wrong with me right? I just want to know if I'm just being an attention whore. Of course I am, if I have any problems someone has worse and I shouldn't complain.

I'm so fucking tired of being in this body. I go down the stairs and creep into the kitchen for an apple. They're on the couch when I look over the counter. All asleep in each other's arms. They don't need all these problems, give them to me, I'll take Ashton's anxiety and the accumulative of all their depression. They have talent, are kind, beautiful, just in every single way good for this fucked up world. I'm just watching in the background, first row seats on a worldwide stage.

I'm in my car but I don't remember getting here. I've been doing that a lot.

There is the clinic. Time to find out how fucked up I am.

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

Wake up. Cut. Apple. Therapists. Cut. Take out. Cut. "Sleep". Repeat. That's how it went for the rest of the week.

I haven't seen the boys in a while. Usually they invite me to their shenanigans, but I guess they finally got tired of me. I mean the only reason they involved me in the first place was cause they felt forced to since I'm in the band.

I guess I should tweet something so no one gets worried.

@Calum5sos: Why are cashiers so judgmental?

Is that nonchalant? Whatever I guess it's time for my routine.

I scramble through the hallway and into the bathroom. I lock the door and clutch my razor. I stop when I see blood. I take off my pants and underwear and then slice the skin on my thigh. It feels so good.