Deadly in Love moments

Don't Believe It pt.2

(Christie's pov)
-8pm-
I step out of the shower, holding a towel close to my body. It's been a terrible day. What Stephanie said really messed me up. I'm too fat. I'm not good enough. I'm scarred all over. God why does recovery have to be so hard? Why can't I just change my way of thinking? I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to be happy. I don't want to care what people think. I don't want to think about hurting myself.

But I do. And it's the worst thing in the world. I'm so close to tears, but I don't want to worry Justin. I'm sure he's tired of me anyway. When I walk out I slip on one of Justin's tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants. I don't even dare look in the mirror. I'm too scared.
"Drew fell asleep before his bedtime. I guess he was tired," Justin enters the room while taking off his shirt.
"Aw, I'll have to say goodnight to him later," I try to sound as stable as I can. It's not easy. Nothing's easy right now.
"Hey baby, are you ok? Did something happen today?" he walks behind me and wraps his warm arms around my waist, making me self conscious.
"Work was pretty busy," I don't want him to worry. He shouldn't. I want to handle this myself.
"Well, I can help you cheer up," Justin's lips waver by my neck. Suddenly, my stomach growls voraciously. Shit!
"...Christie, I thought you said you already ate," Justin obviously noticed and heard, and I'm sure he feels my tension as well.
"I did," I gently slide his arms from my waist, nervously keeping my voice clear and honest.
"Obviously not," he takes hold of my hand and turns me around to face him. His eyes are stern yet concerned. I feel panic all over, and scour for a reason, an explanation, an excuse.
"I'm not even hungry," I look him straight in the eyes and lie to him. And I regret it, because I know by now that he's not stupid.
"Don't bullshit me Christie. You know I hate it," Justin sounds worried, but there's a hint of irritation.
"I'm fine. I told you I already ate, Justin," I find it difficult to look at him, because every time I do I want to cry.
"What did you eat?" he obviously doesn't believe me, but I can't blame him.
"Why are you all mad at me?" my eyes water up and my throat tightens, blocking out my voice.
"I'm not mad at you Christie. I'm just worried," he cups my face in his hands, but I push them away.
"Stop worrying about me. Tell everyone to stop worrying about me. I can't do anything without anyone questioning me. Just because I go to the bathroom, doesn't mean I'm throwing up. Just because I take a long time, doesn't mean I'm cutting myself. Just because I don't want to fucking eat doesn't mean I'm starving. Stop bothering me already! I can handle these feelings on my own," I find myself shouting at him, and I get off topic. It's kind of like the last straw broken. I start complaining about everything, but I don't mention what happened earlier with Stephanie.
"...Baby I'm just trying to help—" "I don't need help! I'm not sick anymore!" I shout, feeling regret and guilt and self hatred.
"Fuck, Christie," Justin sighs, then storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I'm left in a room full of silence and regret, no Justin, no one to hold. That's when I fall to the floor and burst into tears, crying my eyes out for minutes.

I'm just a mess. All I want is to recover. But I'm doing the exact opposite. I feel worthless, due to Stephanie. I feel trapped, due to everyone's worry for me. I feel guilty, due to pushing Justin away. Why can't I do anything right?

These feelings are intense yet frightening. I want to hurt myself. I want to go back to the only thing I'm good at: being sad. Justin probably lost his patience with me, which means he's tired of taking care of me. I wouldn't want to come near me either, especially since I pushed him out.
So I go on a hunt for something sharp. That's what I need. I haven't touched a blade in months, over a year to be exact. But I'm about to break it. There's nothing in this room, so I cover up my sniffling and walk into the hall. I go to the only place that has something sharp, the kitchen. My sobs grow as I approach the knife holder and grab hold of one.
"Christie, what are you doing?" Justin's voice asks behind me, making me break out of this nightmare. I suddenly realize what I'm doing. Justin's presence floats beside me, and I can feel his disappointment.
"No no, Christie. Put that down—Hey, it's ok baby. Listen I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad. I'm not mad at you. Christie, baby, let's talk this out. Tell me what's wrong babe...please," he snatches the knife from my hand and pulls me in front of him. I don't know what to say. All I can do is cry in his chest.
"Dammit baby. What's going on?" he wraps me up, making me feel safe yet regretful.
"I'm sorry," I sob against his heartbeat, hugging him closely.
"What happened?" he questions once again. I decide to just tell him everything.
"When I went to go pick up my shoes earlier, I ran into Stephanie. I tried to ignore her. I really did. But she kept saying how I'm too fat and that I should shop in the plus size section. I know I shouldn't believe it, but it hurts so much Justin. Why do I have to recover? Why is it so hard? I just want to give up," I sink my fingers into his back muscles, warming myself up with his warmth.
"Oh baby...You should've called me or something. You know you can talk to me about this stuff. Don't listen to her. She's just a mean person. You're so much more than her. Babe, you're not fat or anything she told you. Tell me who else could take your place? What can you do to make me hate you? Who can do the things you do? Only you can, Christie. That's why I love you. You're irreplaceable. And I have so much faith in you. I know it's hard baby. I understand. I know how it feels. But I know you can do it. You're strong. You've come too far to give up. Don't throw it all away. Look at me...You can do this," Justin cups my face in his gentle hands. His eyes give me comfort and hope. My crying softens enough for me to steady my breathing. I place my hands over his hands, then hug him tightly.
"I'm sorry," I feel another wave of tears fills my eyes, but it's not because of self-hate. I'm just thankful to have such a supportive husband.
"It's ok baby," Justin envelops me again, tighter than last time. We hold each other in silence, not releasing until the tension is gone. "You should eat something," he breaks the hug but keeps his hands on my back.
"I'll take a turkey sandwich," I tuck my hair behind my ear and look at him honestly. He nods appreciatively; then I hold onto his arm, letting him know how thankful I am to have him.

(A/N: OH MY GOD it's been so long since I've posted. Believe me, I've tried and tried but it's line one thing after another. It's mostly homework and stress. I'm going to do better. I'm sorry for making you wait. I feel so bad. Thank you for having patience)

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