I'm not kissing you goodbye.
x.
I walked in through my bedroom and slammed the door shut. I couldn't deal with anything right now. I felt sick and dizzy and I could hardly breathe.
I'm not even sure what set off my anxiety attack this time. One minute, I was at the party enjoying the night with my best friends, and then the next, my chest felt like it was gonna cave in at any second. Although, I was out of my comfort zone so I'm not even sure why I'm surprised that this happened. It happened all the time.
More frequently lately, though. More than I allow myself believe, anyway. It's gotten to the point where I'm not even sure why people want to stay in my life. Nothing's the same anymore. Most days I'm a zombie. My meds do that to me. It kind of makes me numb so I don't feel shit. My doctor thinks that's what I need but little does he know it just makes me fucking hate myself even more. I can't handle not being on medication, but being a sluggish, emotionless idiot doesn't help at all either. It's affected everything. My relationships with everyone, including my family. They think I can just jump up one day and be happy but they don't understand it doesn't work like that.
The only constant thing I have in my life is my boyfriend and thinking about how he can do so much better than me brings on the attacks as well. Because we both know I'm useless. There's someone out there much prettier than me, thinner than me, and someone who can make him happier than I can. Why he sticks around, I'll never understand.
I stripped out of the clothes I had been wearing to the party. It wasn't anything fancy and I know people were judging me for it. They always do. Everywhere I go, I'm judged. Judged on everything. There's nothing I want more than to just claw all of my own skin off because I feel disgusting in it. The sight of my own appearance in the mirror is enough to make me vomit. I've become obsessed with the idea of being perfect, but I'll never be perfect. No one like me, could ever be perfect. I'll never be anything but a worthless piece of shit for as long as I live. And no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.
Everything has gone downhill in the last year. And I've had enough. There's no one to blame but me. There's nothing I want more than to look in the mirror for once and be okay with what I see.
I took out a big tshirt and slipped it on over my not tiny enough, but fragile body. After everything I've put it through, I'm surprised I'm still kicking, to be quite honest. I ran into the bathroom to wash off the smeared makeup from my tear stained cheeks. I could hear my phone from in on my bed ringing like crazy. I knew who it was but I wasn't answering. I couldn't handle talking to him after I broke down at a party and ran off because I'm still unaware of how to handle my own fucking problems.
In public, that is. When I'm home, just me, my music and my shiny little friends, I handle my problems just the way I like it.
Once my face was washed, I stared at myself in the mirror, giving myself a once over. My hair was dead. It didn't look healthy at all anymore. My eyes are dark. Insomnia is a bitch. My collarbones don't show enough. My fingertips are scabbed yet freshly ripped apart. When I'm anxious I bite my nails and when I've bit them to the point that they start to bleed, I stop till the bleeding subsides, and then I do it all over again. I look down at my legs and I can feel the bile rise to my mouth since there's nothing in my stomach from the day. My thighs just aren't small enough. Nothing I do to change these things is good enough. When will I ever be good enough? Hell, my own friends all probably haven't even noticed that I've left the party because why would they care about me?
I sit on the floor and reach under my sink for the bag that's hidden deep within, where I know no one will ever find it. I slowly unzip the bag and empty the contents on the floor in front of me. It's been a few days since I've been this low. So low to the point where I've felt the need to find comfort in the blade.
20 minutes or so had passed and all I could do was sit at admire the little razor sitting in the palm of my hand. Something so simply that could easily take away so many problems. Temporarily or permanently if I wanted it to be like that. I looked down at my left arm and traced over the scars on my skin with my right index finger. So many scars no one knew about. So many times I had almost put an end to it all. So many thick scars that I deserved.
My phone started ringing once again in the distance, pulling me out of my thoughts for a quick two seconds.
I ignored it and looked back at my arm and slowly glided the razor across my skin. I hissed at the pain. But at the same time, I felt so high. What should have had me shrieking in pain, was actually temporary bliss. I watched the trail of blood trickle down my arm, memorized by the color. It was beautiful. I slid the blade across once more. A little deeper than I had originally planned, or had ever gone but still, it was euphoric.
I heard banging on my bedroom door. No one was here so who the hell could it be?
"Baby, open up!" Guess that answered my question.
I quickly looked for a towel to clean up my arm but the second gash just wouldn't stop bleeding. Panic struck me this time. What if I really had gone to far?
The shouting and banging on the door didn't stop. I ran some cool water over my arm in hopes that it would calm down the bleeding even a little but when have I ever had good luck?
My bedroom door burst open. He couldn't see me like this.
"Baby where the fuck are yo- Kara what the fuck happened?!" His angry green eyes suddenly turned to nothing but concern. I didn't realize I was crying until now. I looked up at his perfect face and suddenly felt nothing but guilt wash over me.
He quickly picked me up from where I collapsed on the floor and applied pressure to my arm. Usually, the idea of dying never scared me. I was okay with the idea because who would miss me anyway? It would be nothing but a favour to me anyway. But now that I have a feeling its happening, I'm not sure what to do. I'm not okay with leaving him behind.
"H-Harry," I cried, "Please make it stop. Please!"
I couldn't breathe, I was dizzy and I'm sure it's from the amount of blood I had lost. My bathroom floor was disgusting. I had never seen that much blood in my life. I couldn't even focus on what he was doing, all I know is that within minutes, my arm was bandaged up. Where he learned to do that? I have no idea.
I looked up into his bright eyes and realized they were no longer bright. They were full of tears and fear. It made me break down again. What did I do to deserve him? Looking back now, he was the only one that was ever there for me. Many nights I was on the verge of a break down and he would skip out on parties or get togethers with our friends and lay in my bed and watch Disney movies with me just to make sure I was okay.
And here I was, a crying, bloody mess on the bathroom floor. I didn't deserve him. He could do so much better than me.
Before I knew it, I was picked up bridal style and placed on my bed, stripped from the tshirt I had put on about an hour ago. Harry pulled his tshirt off his own body and placed it on mine.
"You stay here, okay baby?" I couldn't do anything but nod.
I watched as he walked back into my bathroom and start cleaning the mess I had left on the floor. He washed everything and tossed all of the bloody towels and even my tshirt in the garbage. Along with the razors that were the cause of everything that had just happened.
It wasn't long until he was laying on my bed with me wrapped up in his arms. Neither of us had said a word to one another. I was so embarrassed. He wasn't supposed to see any of that. That's what I did when I needed comforting.
Harry cleared his throat, which could only mean one thing. We had to talk.
"Why, Kara?" He questioned. I couldn't bring myself to turn around and look at him, and all I could do was shrug.
"Do you realize that if I would have waited maybe 5 more minutes to come over here, you would probably be dead!?" His voice cracked. The last thing I needed right now was for him to cry.
I turned around to face him and my guess was right. He had tears flowing down his face. I never noticed it before, probably because I had never seen him cry until now, but his eyes turned a really bright green when he cried. It wasn't a normal green you see in most peoples eyes. His jaw tensed up when I reached up with my bandaged arm to wipe away his tears. It killed me to see him like this and it was all my fault.
"It's all my fault." I muttered.
"What is baby?" He softly spoke.
"Everything, Harry! Don't you get it!?" I snapped.
He looked a little taken back by my sudden outburst but waited for me to finish.
"Every fucking thing that goes wrong is all MY fault. You're here crying and cleaning up a fucking bloody mess when you SHOULD be out enjoying your night with your friends! All of those nights you stayed in here when you should have been out partying and living your life. You shouldn't have to waste your time here with me because I'm a pathetic, useless piece of shit who clearly can't do anything right. You can do so much better than me and you know it. My own family can't stand to look at me anymore, y'know? They're disgusted by me and I can't fucking say I blame them. Our friends hate me and I can't keep a damn conversation going without zoning out every two minutes because my medication turns me into a numb idiot. I can't think for myself and when I do, I make stupid decisions. I'm not the same girl you started dating three years ago and I'm not sure why you stuck around this long because I'm nothing but a fuck up. Do you see it yet? You deserve someone who can make you happy, wh-"
"Do you not realize you're so much more than you care to even consider, Kara?" Harry cut me off. He pushed his soft brown curls out of his face then grabbed me and planted a soft, sweet kiss to my lips.
"You're so beautiful, and no one in this fucking world compares to you, okay? You might not see it, but everyone else does. You're so much more than you think you are, and you've changed my life in more ways than one. You've made me the person I am today and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here without you. You impact so many lives, Kara. Just by existing. Did you even consider how I would have reacted if I came in here to find you had taken your own life? I can't even think about it because the idea of losing you makes me fucking sick to my stomach. Isn't that alone enough for you to keep fighting? You means the absolute world to me and I wish you could see how special you are. No girl has ever had the affect on me as you do and I cannot imagine my life without you. You know I'm here for you. If everyone else in your life decides to toss you out of theirs, you can always count on me to be here. I'll never leave you because you're the most amazing, caring person I know. You care too much and that's your weakness. I just wish you could care that much about yourself because if anything happened to you, I'm not sure I could go on. But I promise you, baby girl, no matter what life throws at you I'll always be here to pick up the pieces. You can always count on me. No matter what you go through, I promise you I'll be here and we'll go through it together, okay?" Harry stared deep into my blue eyes and I could see nothing but sincerity in his.
Tears leaked down my face and all I could do was nod. He once again leaned in and placed a soft kiss to my lips while wrapping his arms around my rigid body. He buried my face into his chest and quietly hummed, not once loosening his grip on me.
His humming calmed me down. As did his long fingers running through my hair and the random little kisses on my forehead were also calming. My arm still throbbed and I'm still not sure what Harry had done to it to stop the bleeding but I was thankful for it.
I looked over at the time and it was 3:04am. We had been here for over three hours, not speaking. Just Harry humming and stealing kisses. My eyes were closed and I'm sure Harry thought I had finally fallen asleep but sleep never came so easy to me. His raspy voice suddenly broke the silence.
"I love you, Kara. You're perfect to me and that's all that fucking matters and I'm gonna prove it to you for as long as you keep me in your life because I'm not going anywhere on my own. We'll get through this together."
For the first night in roughly five months, I fell asleep on my own with the help of no medication.
I can't tell you exactly what brought on this one-shot but all I really have to say is if you're struggling with self harm, depression, eating disorders, anxiety, or basically just any kind of disorder in general, please remember that you're not alone. You don't have to face these things by yourself because no matter what there are ALWAYS people who care about you and are there for you. Never keep these problems to yourself because I know first hand from personal experience that it's not easy. It's a fight but it gets better. I'm always here if needed. I don't care if we've never spoken a word to each other before.
You don't have to do this alone. Chin up, beautiful.
I'm not even sure what set off my anxiety attack this time. One minute, I was at the party enjoying the night with my best friends, and then the next, my chest felt like it was gonna cave in at any second. Although, I was out of my comfort zone so I'm not even sure why I'm surprised that this happened. It happened all the time.
More frequently lately, though. More than I allow myself believe, anyway. It's gotten to the point where I'm not even sure why people want to stay in my life. Nothing's the same anymore. Most days I'm a zombie. My meds do that to me. It kind of makes me numb so I don't feel shit. My doctor thinks that's what I need but little does he know it just makes me fucking hate myself even more. I can't handle not being on medication, but being a sluggish, emotionless idiot doesn't help at all either. It's affected everything. My relationships with everyone, including my family. They think I can just jump up one day and be happy but they don't understand it doesn't work like that.
The only constant thing I have in my life is my boyfriend and thinking about how he can do so much better than me brings on the attacks as well. Because we both know I'm useless. There's someone out there much prettier than me, thinner than me, and someone who can make him happier than I can. Why he sticks around, I'll never understand.
I stripped out of the clothes I had been wearing to the party. It wasn't anything fancy and I know people were judging me for it. They always do. Everywhere I go, I'm judged. Judged on everything. There's nothing I want more than to just claw all of my own skin off because I feel disgusting in it. The sight of my own appearance in the mirror is enough to make me vomit. I've become obsessed with the idea of being perfect, but I'll never be perfect. No one like me, could ever be perfect. I'll never be anything but a worthless piece of shit for as long as I live. And no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.
Everything has gone downhill in the last year. And I've had enough. There's no one to blame but me. There's nothing I want more than to look in the mirror for once and be okay with what I see.
I took out a big tshirt and slipped it on over my not tiny enough, but fragile body. After everything I've put it through, I'm surprised I'm still kicking, to be quite honest. I ran into the bathroom to wash off the smeared makeup from my tear stained cheeks. I could hear my phone from in on my bed ringing like crazy. I knew who it was but I wasn't answering. I couldn't handle talking to him after I broke down at a party and ran off because I'm still unaware of how to handle my own fucking problems.
In public, that is. When I'm home, just me, my music and my shiny little friends, I handle my problems just the way I like it.
Once my face was washed, I stared at myself in the mirror, giving myself a once over. My hair was dead. It didn't look healthy at all anymore. My eyes are dark. Insomnia is a bitch. My collarbones don't show enough. My fingertips are scabbed yet freshly ripped apart. When I'm anxious I bite my nails and when I've bit them to the point that they start to bleed, I stop till the bleeding subsides, and then I do it all over again. I look down at my legs and I can feel the bile rise to my mouth since there's nothing in my stomach from the day. My thighs just aren't small enough. Nothing I do to change these things is good enough. When will I ever be good enough? Hell, my own friends all probably haven't even noticed that I've left the party because why would they care about me?
I sit on the floor and reach under my sink for the bag that's hidden deep within, where I know no one will ever find it. I slowly unzip the bag and empty the contents on the floor in front of me. It's been a few days since I've been this low. So low to the point where I've felt the need to find comfort in the blade.
20 minutes or so had passed and all I could do was sit at admire the little razor sitting in the palm of my hand. Something so simply that could easily take away so many problems. Temporarily or permanently if I wanted it to be like that. I looked down at my left arm and traced over the scars on my skin with my right index finger. So many scars no one knew about. So many times I had almost put an end to it all. So many thick scars that I deserved.
My phone started ringing once again in the distance, pulling me out of my thoughts for a quick two seconds.
I ignored it and looked back at my arm and slowly glided the razor across my skin. I hissed at the pain. But at the same time, I felt so high. What should have had me shrieking in pain, was actually temporary bliss. I watched the trail of blood trickle down my arm, memorized by the color. It was beautiful. I slid the blade across once more. A little deeper than I had originally planned, or had ever gone but still, it was euphoric.
I heard banging on my bedroom door. No one was here so who the hell could it be?
"Baby, open up!" Guess that answered my question.
I quickly looked for a towel to clean up my arm but the second gash just wouldn't stop bleeding. Panic struck me this time. What if I really had gone to far?
The shouting and banging on the door didn't stop. I ran some cool water over my arm in hopes that it would calm down the bleeding even a little but when have I ever had good luck?
My bedroom door burst open. He couldn't see me like this.
"Baby where the fuck are yo- Kara what the fuck happened?!" His angry green eyes suddenly turned to nothing but concern. I didn't realize I was crying until now. I looked up at his perfect face and suddenly felt nothing but guilt wash over me.
He quickly picked me up from where I collapsed on the floor and applied pressure to my arm. Usually, the idea of dying never scared me. I was okay with the idea because who would miss me anyway? It would be nothing but a favour to me anyway. But now that I have a feeling its happening, I'm not sure what to do. I'm not okay with leaving him behind.
"H-Harry," I cried, "Please make it stop. Please!"
I couldn't breathe, I was dizzy and I'm sure it's from the amount of blood I had lost. My bathroom floor was disgusting. I had never seen that much blood in my life. I couldn't even focus on what he was doing, all I know is that within minutes, my arm was bandaged up. Where he learned to do that? I have no idea.
I looked up into his bright eyes and realized they were no longer bright. They were full of tears and fear. It made me break down again. What did I do to deserve him? Looking back now, he was the only one that was ever there for me. Many nights I was on the verge of a break down and he would skip out on parties or get togethers with our friends and lay in my bed and watch Disney movies with me just to make sure I was okay.
And here I was, a crying, bloody mess on the bathroom floor. I didn't deserve him. He could do so much better than me.
Before I knew it, I was picked up bridal style and placed on my bed, stripped from the tshirt I had put on about an hour ago. Harry pulled his tshirt off his own body and placed it on mine.
"You stay here, okay baby?" I couldn't do anything but nod.
I watched as he walked back into my bathroom and start cleaning the mess I had left on the floor. He washed everything and tossed all of the bloody towels and even my tshirt in the garbage. Along with the razors that were the cause of everything that had just happened.
It wasn't long until he was laying on my bed with me wrapped up in his arms. Neither of us had said a word to one another. I was so embarrassed. He wasn't supposed to see any of that. That's what I did when I needed comforting.
Harry cleared his throat, which could only mean one thing. We had to talk.
"Why, Kara?" He questioned. I couldn't bring myself to turn around and look at him, and all I could do was shrug.
"Do you realize that if I would have waited maybe 5 more minutes to come over here, you would probably be dead!?" His voice cracked. The last thing I needed right now was for him to cry.
I turned around to face him and my guess was right. He had tears flowing down his face. I never noticed it before, probably because I had never seen him cry until now, but his eyes turned a really bright green when he cried. It wasn't a normal green you see in most peoples eyes. His jaw tensed up when I reached up with my bandaged arm to wipe away his tears. It killed me to see him like this and it was all my fault.
"It's all my fault." I muttered.
"What is baby?" He softly spoke.
"Everything, Harry! Don't you get it!?" I snapped.
He looked a little taken back by my sudden outburst but waited for me to finish.
"Every fucking thing that goes wrong is all MY fault. You're here crying and cleaning up a fucking bloody mess when you SHOULD be out enjoying your night with your friends! All of those nights you stayed in here when you should have been out partying and living your life. You shouldn't have to waste your time here with me because I'm a pathetic, useless piece of shit who clearly can't do anything right. You can do so much better than me and you know it. My own family can't stand to look at me anymore, y'know? They're disgusted by me and I can't fucking say I blame them. Our friends hate me and I can't keep a damn conversation going without zoning out every two minutes because my medication turns me into a numb idiot. I can't think for myself and when I do, I make stupid decisions. I'm not the same girl you started dating three years ago and I'm not sure why you stuck around this long because I'm nothing but a fuck up. Do you see it yet? You deserve someone who can make you happy, wh-"
"Do you not realize you're so much more than you care to even consider, Kara?" Harry cut me off. He pushed his soft brown curls out of his face then grabbed me and planted a soft, sweet kiss to my lips.
"You're so beautiful, and no one in this fucking world compares to you, okay? You might not see it, but everyone else does. You're so much more than you think you are, and you've changed my life in more ways than one. You've made me the person I am today and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here without you. You impact so many lives, Kara. Just by existing. Did you even consider how I would have reacted if I came in here to find you had taken your own life? I can't even think about it because the idea of losing you makes me fucking sick to my stomach. Isn't that alone enough for you to keep fighting? You means the absolute world to me and I wish you could see how special you are. No girl has ever had the affect on me as you do and I cannot imagine my life without you. You know I'm here for you. If everyone else in your life decides to toss you out of theirs, you can always count on me to be here. I'll never leave you because you're the most amazing, caring person I know. You care too much and that's your weakness. I just wish you could care that much about yourself because if anything happened to you, I'm not sure I could go on. But I promise you, baby girl, no matter what life throws at you I'll always be here to pick up the pieces. You can always count on me. No matter what you go through, I promise you I'll be here and we'll go through it together, okay?" Harry stared deep into my blue eyes and I could see nothing but sincerity in his.
Tears leaked down my face and all I could do was nod. He once again leaned in and placed a soft kiss to my lips while wrapping his arms around my rigid body. He buried my face into his chest and quietly hummed, not once loosening his grip on me.
His humming calmed me down. As did his long fingers running through my hair and the random little kisses on my forehead were also calming. My arm still throbbed and I'm still not sure what Harry had done to it to stop the bleeding but I was thankful for it.
I looked over at the time and it was 3:04am. We had been here for over three hours, not speaking. Just Harry humming and stealing kisses. My eyes were closed and I'm sure Harry thought I had finally fallen asleep but sleep never came so easy to me. His raspy voice suddenly broke the silence.
"I love you, Kara. You're perfect to me and that's all that fucking matters and I'm gonna prove it to you for as long as you keep me in your life because I'm not going anywhere on my own. We'll get through this together."
For the first night in roughly five months, I fell asleep on my own with the help of no medication.
I can't tell you exactly what brought on this one-shot but all I really have to say is if you're struggling with self harm, depression, eating disorders, anxiety, or basically just any kind of disorder in general, please remember that you're not alone. You don't have to face these things by yourself because no matter what there are ALWAYS people who care about you and are there for you. Never keep these problems to yourself because I know first hand from personal experience that it's not easy. It's a fight but it gets better. I'm always here if needed. I don't care if we've never spoken a word to each other before.
You don't have to do this alone. Chin up, beautiful.
Notes
xo.Also willing to take one shot requests. Just let me know, and don't forget to read my other one shots/the story I have started but haven't really gotten around to updating lately due to writers block when it comes to that plot.