Audacity

Liquid Rainbows

                Blood pulsated in my ears, turning my childish cheeks are brilliant scarlet. I twist my way out of his grasp and dart around him, hands reaching for my hair. “No! No you can’t do this! Why are you trying to do this! They can’t get me, you can’t get me,” I cry as he lunges for me, grabbing my forearms.

                “Please,” he begs, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Stop trying to hurt yourself. Louise, please come back to me, please,” he pleaded as my eyes glazed over and a laugh escaped my throat.

                “Joshieeee,” I say, my voice lilting an octave as he grips my wrists harder, restraining my attempts to dig my nails into my arms. “I…I bleed liquid rainbows,” I whisper, giggling as confusion passes over his face. “Don’t…don’tcha wanna see?” I inquire, making to gesture at the insides of my wrists.

                “God, Louise no. You bleed red, just red. Pure red,” he breathes as I laugh mirthlessly.

I can’t always say I valued the tedrum of life. I never was a fan of monotony and dullness. Sprightly and dramatic, I was the eccentric recluse. Always able to turn heads and not afraid to spin and laugh like a child. I cannot say I am grateful for the turn of events, the revolt my mind has placed against my spirit, but I can only accept it as the natural choice of God and the fates, slowly twisting my gut into something worthwhile. I was naïve as a child, but not as long as the others. For that brief time, I was oblivious to the intricacies of the world, seeing it in blocks and triangles, my one block universe unchallenged by the hatred and delicacies that kept the world in balance. As a child I was stubborn, bright, and many had trouble trying to captivate my attention. I had a well-balanced childhood, two parents and a nice home. I was in no poverty and had the rather decent walk of life.

                But for some reason, for some twist in karma, I ended up like this. I guess it took me four years to crack publically. I knew it was coming, but it provided no comfort in knowing that my mental health was taking a steep decline. I had spent most of these years in a silent solitude, keeping to myself and going through a couple of very good friends. But it was the winter of my sophomore year that changed my life drastically.

                I remember, a year back, when I first heard It. The voice was a mere whisper, the soft rustling, akin to radio static, covered it. At first I believed it was just a dream, or my brain recalling a sound. But no, it wasn’t. It came back. It came back and taunted me, keeping me up at night, causing me to toss and turn in bed, waiting for it to dim to a manageable hum. This thing was not amenable, it was not going to adjust to help me live better at all, and that’s when I realized, I needed help.

                My desperate pleas for help went unheard, my voice growing hoarse, slipping into a silent cry. It would torment me, it would try to extrude out my sanity, pushing every bit of nerve I had. The bitter giggle escaped my lips as I fought mercilessly against Josh, his eyes glistening as the discord of my brain recreated itself into a lashed out confrontation, the friction in my brain expressed in the audacity of my personality.

                I bit my lip. He wasn’t truly my rival and competitiveness was not a factor that played part in our relationship. My face tingles, reality crashing atop my shoulders as wave after wave of realization pushes my heart deeper into the crater that was formed. The preposterous notion that I would consider combat with my obviously physically dominant boyfriend remained not so outrageous as I contemplated the last couple months. The tingle spread, arms going loose, letting Josh lean against me. “I don’t need you,” I say, voice stronger than body. “I don’t want you!”

                The words accidentally spill from my lips as my resolve falls to pieces. His eyes widen, and his wall is finally broken. “I didn’t mean it,” I whisper, falling into him as my voice catches. Our eyes lock as we fall to the floor. Falling apart, falling to pieces. God I was so sick of this…

Darling I bleed liquid rainbows but I love you more than I love playing the Artist in my beautifully twisted mind

A/N: Another down day of floating within a mental illness