My Fucking Mess Of A Life

Chained.

I had a therapy appointment today. I have them every Tuesday. My mom came in at first to explain what's been happening with my school situation. I just stared at nothing. I tuned them out. The words made into my head but I didn't focus on them. Eventually my mom got up to leave so it would be just me and my therapist. Before she left I spoke up. "He said I've been putting him through hell for the past ten years." My mom just sighed. She sounded tired. I felt a stab of pain at that. It was drowned out by everything else that was going on inside. It was the worst I could ever remember it being. Everything in me was fighting. My therapist asked me questions. I just sat there staring at the same spot on the wall. I didn't want to. I wanted to tell her what was wrong. I wanted to give her answers. I couldn't. As much as everything in me was pushing, willing me to tell her, I couldn't. Something was preventing me from doing so. It was like a mountain. No matter how many people try to move it, it won't budge. I felt like I wanted to cry. I could feel the despair taking over me. I heard what she was saying, but I was too busy trying to keep myself together. "Why do you think his words affect you so much if you know he doesn't matter?" The voice in my head cried out 'I don't care what he thinks! It's not his opinion that matters! It's the fact that his words are true! I believe them not because I care for his opinion, but because he's not wrong!' Silence. I didn't say anything. The only noticeable action besides breathing was my right hand up my left sleeve. My fingers ghosted over the many lines that littered my upper arm, the feather light touches tickling. A few moments passed. "Are you going to say anything?" 'I want to! Please! Help me! I hate feeling like this! I don't know what to do! Help!' Silence. The voice in my head tried everything it could to get me to open my mouth and speak. I couldn't. I don't know why. Something was stopping me. I could almost hear the voice in my head weeping as it failed to get me to communicate in any way. Whatever it was that wasn't letting me talk was holding the voice back, preventing it from reaching me. It chained the voice up. She started asking me about if I thought of hurting myself. That I responded to. Not because the voice got through, but because the something knew it would seem slightly suspicious not to answer those questions. As I noticed my session was almost over, the voices attempts got weaker and weaker as it realized it wasn't going to get me to talk. Just before she said our session was over, I almost said something. It wasn't something that would have made a lot of sense, but  I'm sure my therapist would have been happy to get anything at that point. The second I got the idea, the voice started fighting again. Fighting against its bonds, trying to get me to say it. The something pushed against the voice with everything it had, but seeing as this was probably the only hope I had left for speaking, the voice wasn't backing down. I was about a second away from saying it, when my therapist said it was time to go. The voice was immediately overpowered by the something and shoved to the back of my mind, chained up once again.

3/28/17

A/n: It's 11:40 at night, I'm too tired for a proper authors note. If you really want one go read the previous chapters a/n's. All the same shit anyways.

A/n 2: Turns out I ended up pulling an all nighter just to read a really sad, depressing, dark phanfiction. Like it's really fucked up and graphic and stuff. You'd think in my current mental state I would try to avoid those types of things. Oh well, guess I just like to be able to relate to what I'm reading.  I'm still not doing a proper authors note, just thought I should say it's not because I went to sleep, but because I don't really care.