I'm okay (5sos ot4)

2

"Hello Calum!" I was in response, it's been getting to hard to speak. No one likes my voice anyway.

"We have your diagnosis," she pulls out a file "you are depressed, obviously, you're also suicidal, have BPD, generalized anxiety disorder, insomnia, PTSD and, according to your bmi as well, anorexia." She looks at the paper with wide eyes. I guess all she did was write down what we're talking about.

"Umm, here is your prescriptions," she hands me a decent size stack of papers "Silenon and Rozerm for insomnia, take one one night and one the next to see which keeps you asleep, if neither work we also have you the prescription for Lunesta in case you need something stronger, but it makes you extremely tired the next day. For your borderline personality disorder their isn't anything we can prescribe, but for anxiety and PTSD you have the option of Xanax, Alivan, or just using the antidepressant you're already going to take like Prozac, Zoloft, Lexapro, Paxil or Celexa."

I nod. I don't know what to do with all of this.

"Ohh and please give me a call when you pick them up!" I nod.

I get into my car and just sit there. I can't tell them, they already have to much to worry about without my useless life getting in the way. The wouldn't even try to help me though, I'm a lost cause.

I drive to the nearest pharmacy and give them all the prescriptions because I have already forgotten which is for what. They told me to pick it up when they call. I leave feeling neutral. I think I'm supposed to be experiencing at least one emotion.

I drive home, if I can even call it that and walk to the bedroom that's supposedly mine.

Once I reach my bed I grab my phone and scroll through tumblr. I listen to covers of songs and cat gifs but nothing removes the urge to cut.

I go to the bathroom and lock the door. I strip and settle down into the bathtub with my blade in my hand. I drag it over the insides of my fat thighs that could do with just being less in every way. Then I bring it to my stomach that used to ask for food but has learned its place. I bring it to my legs again because they are what bring me to places I'm clearly not needed. It feels nice, the gentle burn that offers me relief.

I drag my best friend to a virgin territory and let the blood pour. It's what I deserve, to bleed not the people who have families yet sign up to defend their country anyway. I love the feeling of losing blood, it feels a bit tingly and it's refreshing to see.

I go to my wrists last. It's always weird to hide here but that's what bands are for.

Breeching through the skin on my forearm gives me a sense of power. If I would drag my blade north to south instead of east to west no one could fix me, even if they cared. I just watch the scars form.

I don't think I will ever sleep tonight.