Dysphoria

Chapter Twelve

When I got home from Fez's place I ran upstairs and stuck my fingers down my throat until I wretched and gagged up every single ounce of food in my stomach. Then I ripped off the stupid cheerleading costume and got in the shower. The water was boiling and I scrubbed myself raw until all the hot water was gone.

By then I had no tears left, I wished the shower had somehow filled with water and I just drowned.

I climbed into bed, took a Xanax and passed out.

That's pretty much all I did for the past two days. Woke up, took Xanax, slept.

At one point I woke up and realized I hadn't charged or even looked at my phone since I used it to find Fez's address.

I lay in bed, feeling depressed out of my mind, plugged in my phone and waited for it to power up.

Multiple text and missed calls notifications popped up and I dreaded opening any of them. Fez, Nate, Kat, Maddy. It's like my thumb physically wouldn't tap the button.

Eventually I opened the girls messages and just gave vague excuses for what was going on and why I skipped school Thursday and Friday. At least I would have Saturday and Sunday for the coke to leave my system and to get myself together .

I ignored Fez and Nate for obvious reasons.

Around 11:30 p.m. I got another text.

Short King: are you awake?

Me: no
Short King: I can see your light on

Me: what the fuck?

Short King:  I'm outside. Open the door.

Me: no Nate I'm really not in the mood. We'll just fight and I don't have the energy.

I put down the phone on my dresser and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee.

"You have a really shitty lock on your back door."

"AhAHH!! FUCK! What are you doing in here!" I scream almost collapsing on the bathroom floor when I see Nate standing in the mirror behind me.

"I heard you were sick so I came to check on you." He said causally throwing a large pink gift bag on the bed in the other room. "Is it always this messy in here?"

"No. It's not, I'm just having a hard time right now." My room would always get more out of control as my depression would spiral, I liked having things neat but my brain would get too overwhelmed by the idea of organizing. It was like trying to reorganize the Amazon jungle, it was an impossible task.

He looked so massive sitting on my Queen sized bed it was almost comical.

"Please Nate, I appreciate you checking on me. But...I'm really not going to be great company right now." I saw he was wearing the Under Armor hoody I threw back at him and some jeans, even in that he looked a lot more put together than I did in, braless in my baggy pajama T-shirt and shorts.

"It's fine." He leaned back on the bed kicking off his shoes and grabbing the tv remote. "I'm never good company anyway."

For some reason that statement made me laugh, like laugh my ass off. He looked at me like I was mentally challenged. "That's true."

"Besides I can't take you out anywhere looking like this so, we'll just stay here." He glanced at my unfortunate bed wear.