An Open Book

I couldn't think of a better option. First it started out as scratching, just when I got frustrated. Then when I got depressed, I upgraded to scissors. They didn't do much good the day I got possessed by a demonic, overwhelming force.

I was sitting in class next to my friend Alice. She knew all about me being depressed and going to see a physiatrist to help with this issue. My doctor is from Nigeria. He's a nice guy, but sometimes I feel like he doesn't understand. It's like, I would say one thing, and then he would interpret the opposite of what I said. But overall, I do agree with a lot of what he says.

I was sitting at my desk when I got this churning feeling in the pit of my stomach and a crashing rush of worthlessness. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it was because I was tired of everyone around me? Or because I had guilt for what I was doing to my family? To this day I'm not sure. This feeling wasn't pleasant. It was like taking sorrow and placing it on a merry go round. It wouldn't go away. My head started to feel numb and my eyes wished to be closed. I felt like I was going to throw up if this continued. I couldn't handle this. I asked Jeremy across from me if I could use his scissors. He granted me permission, and I stuffed it in my pocket- but unfortunately not before Alice saw. She looked confused as I went up to our teacher and whispered if I could go to the washroom. She nodded and let me go. I started making my way toward the door when logic made Alice's brain tick.

"No. You can't!" She blocked my way with her face contorted with distress.
"Stop, let me go." I mumbled, hoping no one would notice this event. No one did. Alice kept protesting but I ripped my arm from her grip and made my way to the washroom. I open that last, and biggest stall, which is usually used by the handicapped. I locked it and pulled up my sleeve begging for release.

I continuously dragged the metal across my arm and dug it in. I couldn't make this pain go away. Soon Alice angrily walked into the washroom swearing and demanding me not to do anything. I told her told shut up and leave. It didn't work. She wasn't going to leave without a fight. Alice shimmed under the gap at the bottom of the stall and tried to grab the scissors from me. I pulled away from her and tried to get her to back off.

We were now wrestling.

My teacher walked in and told Alice to get out. She gave me a pleading look and opened the stall door and left the washroom. I quickly shut the door and locked it. My teacher can go fuck herself.
"
Grace, please come out. I know how your feeling. Believe me. I do, sometimes I look at the razor and I wonder why I'm not putting it to my wrist. But this isn't the way to get rid of this. Please, Grace. Come out." She said almost pitifully. I sniffled, on the fringe or crying. I lowered the scissors and dug into the skin on my arm.

"Grace, I can see you." She must've been looking through the tiny slit from the top to the bottom of the stall, near the lock. I sighed, surrendering, and unlocked the door. I handed over the scissors. And she said what everyone else said.

"Don't do it. It's not the answer. Your better than this. You have so much going for you."

No I don't.

I hardly ever go to school, and when I do I learn nothing and have horrible grades. I'm lucky if I even complete this year. I'm overly sensitive about pointless things. I have backstabbing friends. An ex- boyfriend that won't leave me alone. I can't sleep at night. I wear a coat of misery almost every day.

I have nothing going for me.

I guess that's what lead me to Shane. He went to the same clinic as I did. I had met him on several occasions. But this one was different. He was all anxious about something.

I later found out that something was me.

We started talking but we ended up drifting off topic and silence engulfed us. While I was drifting into sleep. He whispered into my ear and told me to follow him.

So I did.

We wandered around and ended up at a empty office. He hesitantly gave me a soft smile and kissed me.

That kiss led to sex.
Neither of us were thinking.
Both of us acting on an impulse.

Looking back, I regret every second of it.
"Live life without regrets" isn't all it's cracked up to be.

My eating habits have always been small. But after that day, food started to repulse me. I felt- and still do feel, like I'm going to throw up if I even look at a piece of fruit. Let alone a whole meal.

If I thought life was worse before me and Shane fucked... I was severely wrong.

I started dragging a razor across the skin of my wrist to feel alive. I was doing it without worry until my mom noticed my bandaged up wrist. She questioned me, and when I finally broke down, I was rushed to the hospital.

I can no longer go to school. They're setting me up with a day hospital program. It's basically a bit of school work, group therapy, and one-on-one therapy.

I'm scared to know what lies in my future. I'd like to think I'd be happy.

But time can only tell.