Abigail

Chapter 20

*MUST READ*

I don't know why I haven't said this before, but I want you guys to know that some parts of this story may be triggering. I don't want to sound like one of those websites or books or people that tells you to read at your own risk and that there's help available, and blah blah blah. I understand. When you're in this position, all rational thoughts go out the window and no advice is helpful.

I can't tell you it'll get better. Honestly, sometimes it doesn't; that's just life. I'm in no position to tell you to get help or it'll be okay because I'm in the same boat as you. *I understand not all readers are suffering from mental illnesses, but I'm sure you can relate at some point*

I can listen, I can relate, I can share my story, but that's about it. It sounds cliche, but the rest is up to you. I'm scared to admit that I'm recovering. The thought is beyond terrifying. I've become so close to my mental illnesses that I'm not comfortable living a 'normal' life. I'll always have set-backs and urges and moments of weaknesses, but maybe that won't be my life forever. Maybe one day I'll truely be happy.

Anyways, I don't know how it got so emotional, I just wanted to tell you that if you're easily triggered, this story won't help. And if you are suffering from a mental illness such as depression, bi-polar, eating disorders *yes, they are mental illnesses* or anything else, I just want to tell you how proud I am.

Maybe you self harmed today, maybe you didn't get out of bed or skipped a few meals, but you're still here. And if you did eat or you did get out of bed, or even forced a smile, I'm so freakin' proud of you. Everyone wants you to be 'normal', yet they don't praise you when you do something that kills you on the inside. You're not told how well you're doing and you're definitely not told that you're worth it as much as you should be. So here's to everyone that smiled or laughed or used every ounce of strength that they had to put down that blade. You're not given as much credit as you deserve, but I really am proud of you. It's hard and not everyone will understand that, however, I do. I wish I could tell each of you indivisually how amazing you're doing and seriously, you all deserve a f*cking medal, just for putting up with these diseases and making it through one more day.

This one's for you.

Chapter 20

                Monday is one of the worst days I’ve had in a really long time. Zach’s in a bad mood and refuses to talk to me all day. I don’t mind walking to and from school, but it isn’t like him to make me walk, especially with all that’s been going on.

                He remains distant after school, too, which starts the racing thoughts because Sunday was such a good day for us. I don’t think we’ve ever been in a fight like this. There was Friday, but he already apologized for that and said it had nothing to do with me. So something had to have changed overnight.

                I close the front door and remember to lock it this time, collapsing onto the ground and finally crying my heart out. I’ve been holding it in all day so Zach wouldn’t know what he was doing to me and now that I’m finally on my own I can let it out.

                After an hour or two of lying there, crying on and off, I drag myself upstairs and isolate myself in the bathroom. I stare in the mirror for what feels like hours, wanting to smash it to a million pieces as I continue to lower my self-esteem.

                Fat. Ugly. Stupid. Worthless. Annoying. He hates you. Die. Cut. Starve. Fat. Fat. Fat. What did you do? Everybody hates you. You’re not good enough. Everything is your fault. Failure. Kill yourself.

                I close my eyes and grip my hair, wanting the bad thoughts to stop. They keep repeating and repeating and I feel like I’m drowning, but the voices won’t let me die. I cry in frustration and throw my fist into the mirror, ignoring the sharp pains in my hand.