Diagnosed Chaos

Chapter 1 • Whatever It Takes 📌

      So much blood. I hadn't expected a safety pin to do so much damage, but I was really bleeding. There were crimson red slices now overseeing my entire left forearm, and I'd never been more satisfied. Watching the blood flow was my favorite part. I let it bleed until I couldn't see the cuts anymore, then I grabbed a towel. I held pressure on my arm to stop the bleeding.
     With all the blood gone, the cuts were now visible again. My arm was singing with pain, but it was almost a relief. I had finally forgotten what I was upset about. I went into the bathroom and got the hydrogen peroxide out of the medicine cabinet. I slowly poured it onto my arm, cringing in pain as it sizzled on my skin. I wiped my arm clean, and replaced the peroxide back in the cabinet. When I got back in my room, I changed into a long sleeve blue shirt to hide my cuts. I then went to bed, thinking about what I would say the next day if someone asked me about the terrible gashes on my wrist.

•••

     The next morning, when I got to my English class, I was feeling really guilty about self-harming the night before. I asked Mr. Good if I could go to the counselors office. He agreed to let me go, but he said I had to be quick. I disregarded that and took my things with me because I knew this wouldn't be quick at all.
     I walked myself down to the counselors office very quickly but hesitantly at the same time. I was nervous as to what he'd say. Would he scold me? Call my grandparents? (I live with my grandparents.) They would NOT be happy about that. When I got down to the counselors office, the secretary, Mrs. Barkley gave me a very snarly look.
"What do you need, Lauren?"
" Uuhh.. can I see Mr. Pirro? It's urgent."
"He's busy, go back to class." She says, and then turns back to her computer.
"No, no Mrs. Barkley you don't und-"
"Lauren. I said go back to class. I will tell him you stopped by." Mrs. Barkley flashed me her sweetest, widest, toothiest grin and waved at me.
     I had no choice but to leave the office and go back to class. I was mad. I was more than mad. I was LIVID. I told her it was URGENT. Like - 🚨. Do people not understand social cues anymore?
     I walked into the bathroom and into the big handicap stall. I sat down on the toilet, pants still up, and just cried. I cried and cried for probably, twenty minutes. And then, I cleaned up my face, gathered my emotions, and went back to class. 
     When I got home that night, I told my grandparents about what Mrs. Barkley had said to me, and they said she was probably just having a bad day. That made me angry. They sided with MRS. BARKLEY. I really didn't give two less shits if she had had a bad day or not. That was no excuse to be so condescending. I went up to my room and watched some TV, but I just wasn't into it, so I went to bed.

•••

     So now it's Friday, and this is the day everything goes to Hell. Every Friday at school, the Women's Abuse Center from a nearby town sends their therapist, Eleanor, to counsel me in private sessions weekly. Well, little did I know, El and I were going to hit a pipe this time. They called me out of Algebra II to go to the counselors office and meet with El.          (I loved my sessions with El.)
"Hi Lauren! You look cute today! Please, sit." She said as she got up to shut the door behind me.
"Thank you." I said with a small smile as I sat my things down and got settled.
"So how are you?"
"I'm alright I guess."
"What do you mean? Did something happen?"
"Well I sorta... uh... I self harmed again. Bad."
Her face went blank and she got really pale when I said that.
"Will you please show me?" She said, as she was slowly reaching for her purse.
"Um... okay." I sounded like a pouty little child who'd just lost a card game.
     I lifted up my shirtsleeve to reveal many different size gashes and cuts. They began at the base on my hand, and went all the way to the crease of my arm.
"I think they might be getting infected. They're all hot." I said.
"My goodness Lauren," She said quietly. "Do you think, it might be a good idea to call your grandma?"
     I rapidly shook my head no. I knew my grandmother would be upset with me for this and her disappointment was all I didn't need to deal with at the moment.
"Okay, how about your grandfather?"
     I looked up at her and just laughed. Straight out, laughed. He would FREAK if he saw my arm or knew I had even CONSIDERED something like this. She seemed defeated by my response.
"Okay, then looks like we're calling your mom. Because we have to inform someone of this."
     I haven't lived with my mom since I was 13. I moved out, I wasn't forced. So my mother and I have always been on rocky grounds because of it. With her it's like walking on eggshells. You never know what your gonna get.
     I just nodded my head.
"Okay. Fine. Just not my grandparents."
     Eleanor immediately shoots her hand into her purse and grabs her phone. She does some tapping and then says, "What's her number?"
"It's 918-555-3390."
"Okay, thank you."
"Mhm." I just sat there as El spoke with my mom quietly in the other corner of the office.

"She'll be here in 20 minutes. She said she's taking you to the hospital. Lauren, I know things have been hard for you lately, but you are so strong. I know you can pull through this."
     I haven't spoken to my mother in 5 months.
"She's here."

Enjoy? Come back soon for Chapter 2! ❤️

National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255