𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

𝟯𝟱. 𝗪𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲

TW: misscarriage

Each day I'm in here it feels like I learn something new.

Like how asking for help isn't admitting that you're weak unlike Adam thinks, asking for help is probably one of the bravest things a human can do.

I learnt that the temporary high drugs give, and the temporary pain harming yourself offers will all fade within a few hours; but the guilt and regret never does. So the next time you think about what you want to feel, remember that the high isn't the only thing you'll experience. Which one is worth it more?

But one of the biggest lessons I've realised whilst being in here is that I'm not alone. I've always been aware that many others struggle with addiction, but my mind had a tendency to believe I was the only one who experienced the thoughts I did, the feelings I did. The loneliness, the disassociation, the voices telling me I was worthless until their throats hurt from the abusive screams.

But it's not true, not at all. So many people feel the same, sometimes they might be hard to find, but what's guaranteed is that they do exist. And you're almost never as alone as your mind portrays it to be.

And if there's one thing I'll take from my time in here, it's that.

Today has been pretty relaxed, which isn't always a good thing because no group activities or sessions with Maria means the more time I have to waste. Boredom might just kill me before anything else could.

Darcy rung, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't an enjoyable conversation. Almost felt like a normal one, and for a moment I was back laying on my own bed in my own home, having a casual chit chat with my sister. I felt happier by the end of it, now I only wait on Kaylee to pick up the phone and get over whatever is holding her back from calling.

__ __ __

"Knock knock, delivery." I snap my head east, waiting for Maria to walk in with dinner.

She does, but with a lot more than just a single plastic plate of food.

"What's that?" I question, already off the bed and at her side. There's a big gift bag filled with what looks like fabric that she's placing on the floor, handing me the less interesting delivery of plain pasta.

"Clothes from your sister, have a look through them. Might find something you like." she concludes with an unusual smile, it's not showcasing her straight set of teeth or her dimples. It's tight lipped, all the emotion stored in the pools of her ocean blue irises.

I nod my head, waiting until she's out the door before I drop the plate and head straight to the bag, gasping when the first thing my eyes lay on is a single white rose. So bright, such a vibrant shade of a colour most people consider boring, it almost illuminates the room.

I pick it up carefully trying not to prick myself on its thorns, and that's when I realise there's not a single one in sight. Each last spike has been removed, nothing but an uneven stem twirls around my fingers slowly. I admire each petal, and the way they wrap around one other to create a perfect design.