Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
( FAYE )
my eyes follow the frantic spins of the ceiling fan, unwarrantedly adding to my headache.
anxiety and panic seem to extend their reach beyond humans; the restless, panic driven spins of fans all day and night... poor things.
the ache in my head amplifies, prompting my hand to meet my temple with resonant thuds.
despite the pointlessness, i continue this age-old ritual, a subconscious action that has remained throughout my childhood.
headache? oh, just slap your forehead a bunch of times and it'll go away.
the absurdity of it paints a fleeting smile on my face.
nine days have passed without penning down my thoughts.
no emotional release, no catharsis, no serenity — just rotting in sadies bed all day while she spends her time in the living room.
our conversations have dwindled to mere good mornings and good nights, the only words sneaking their way past our distance.
i find myself texting marcus more frequently, succumbing to an old habit. it might not be the wisest choice, but it's a preferable alternative to another detrimental sanctuary — alcohol.
!! self harm
the revival of another habit... a former adversary lying dormant since high school, now reemerges to mock me with its power.
i've been silent about my relapse, mostly since there's literally no one to confide in.
marcus remains oblivious; i've never broached this topic with him, making it strange to suddenly unveil it now.
a strange sense of comfort resides in it, in tracing circles over the ridges beneath my long sleeves, in knowing at any moment, i can dismiss my thoughts with just a sting.
the pain fades away, only leaving behind its marked reminders.
