Status: a short story
Vacant Thoughts
Enemy In Me
What is it like, she wonders, to be the happy, beautiful, talented girl with a partner and good friends and a bright career ahead of her? But again, she also wonders what it’s like to be the girl whose life is so horrible to her that there is no other option but to die. She never been either, oh no, she’s only ever been the girl who’s life was quite okay but her mind more than terrible, so terrible that she saw no other way out than to press any sharp object down unto her skin, watching herself bleed.
To starve was to be liberated – from everything that goes on in her life. To drink until almost passed out, to get high so she’s not able to deal with normal life. No, she hasn’t had a bad life, she was hit as a child, but not abused. Her father an alcoholic who favours his whiskey over her and her family, her grandmother who has grown senile after a series of falls and her family must carry the burden. Her mother never paid much attention to anything she had to say or what was going on in her life, her sister cared about her, they were rather close to each other indeed, but like their mother, sometimes she made her feel invisible and useless.
But she didn’t have bad life, not to her anyway.
At the age of 10, a sudden sadness took over her life, she lost her appetite, no longer felt the need to be social, felt entirely nothing but sadness. She discovered what it was like to want to end her life so badly that she attempted it, feebly so, but perhaps not the point. She felt so much pain that cutting herself was all she could do is help herself. She started smoking at 11, on a road of self-destruction. Her self harm got worse, halted for a while, then worsened. At age 14 the girl discovered alcohol, she didn’t worry if she ended up like her father; why should she when he didn’t care about her?
Drinking every weekend was her saving.
She learned what it was like to be controlled by food. To hate her own body she could restrict her calories limit for months, fast for days, live by the scale. Binge on food until she could feel her stomach swell. Her whole life, everyone and thing around her was controlled by her fear of food. She relished the feeling of loosing weight, because nothing mattered as long as she was getting thinner. She thought all of her problems would go away if she reached eighty pounds, at five foot one, it was reasonable she thought – everyone will love her then.
At 15, she began to smoke marijuana, she never feared drugs. Why should she when it makes her feel better more than alcohol did? She can not stomach alcohol anymore, week after week for month after month of drowning herself in it. The high never gave her any good feelings but as long as it gave her something, because now she could feel nothing.
But she knows, all it can take is for someone to love her, to hold her and kiss her and to cuddle her. Even at fifteen she yearns for someone to love, truly she does not want what other teenagers have, she doesn’t want a fling. She wants love, but she knows it’s all so silly, after all she is only a girl.
So now she waits, she never reached that eighty pounds, but she’s getting there. There are more scars on her left arm, and there will be more. She will say yes to other drugs to feel loved.
But now she waits to see what will take her first, sadder than ever she cares no more.
To starve was to be liberated – from everything that goes on in her life. To drink until almost passed out, to get high so she’s not able to deal with normal life. No, she hasn’t had a bad life, she was hit as a child, but not abused. Her father an alcoholic who favours his whiskey over her and her family, her grandmother who has grown senile after a series of falls and her family must carry the burden. Her mother never paid much attention to anything she had to say or what was going on in her life, her sister cared about her, they were rather close to each other indeed, but like their mother, sometimes she made her feel invisible and useless.
But she didn’t have bad life, not to her anyway.
At the age of 10, a sudden sadness took over her life, she lost her appetite, no longer felt the need to be social, felt entirely nothing but sadness. She discovered what it was like to want to end her life so badly that she attempted it, feebly so, but perhaps not the point. She felt so much pain that cutting herself was all she could do is help herself. She started smoking at 11, on a road of self-destruction. Her self harm got worse, halted for a while, then worsened. At age 14 the girl discovered alcohol, she didn’t worry if she ended up like her father; why should she when he didn’t care about her?
Drinking every weekend was her saving.
She learned what it was like to be controlled by food. To hate her own body she could restrict her calories limit for months, fast for days, live by the scale. Binge on food until she could feel her stomach swell. Her whole life, everyone and thing around her was controlled by her fear of food. She relished the feeling of loosing weight, because nothing mattered as long as she was getting thinner. She thought all of her problems would go away if she reached eighty pounds, at five foot one, it was reasonable she thought – everyone will love her then.
At 15, she began to smoke marijuana, she never feared drugs. Why should she when it makes her feel better more than alcohol did? She can not stomach alcohol anymore, week after week for month after month of drowning herself in it. The high never gave her any good feelings but as long as it gave her something, because now she could feel nothing.
But she knows, all it can take is for someone to love her, to hold her and kiss her and to cuddle her. Even at fifteen she yearns for someone to love, truly she does not want what other teenagers have, she doesn’t want a fling. She wants love, but she knows it’s all so silly, after all she is only a girl.
So now she waits, she never reached that eighty pounds, but she’s getting there. There are more scars on her left arm, and there will be more. She will say yes to other drugs to feel loved.
But now she waits to see what will take her first, sadder than ever she cares no more.
♠ ♠ ♠
Oh urm, well, this is the first thing I've written in over a year maybe. I've never even attempted writing in a long time.I'm only new back to Mibba after leaving for a very long time, feedback would be very nice, as critical as you like!
*Also I'm rediscovering how to make layouts, and this one wasn't happening for me so I apologise for how bad it is.