We'll Make It (Sequel to Through it Together) - Demi Lovato

Part 30

Demi's POV
Life is hard. Life is so fucking hard and every time I get through it it punches me back down. And now my life, my actions, my weakness, is fully affecting the people that I love.

My Lovatics aren't idiots. Some of them can see right through me. Some of them are overly protective, freaking out immediately if I'm seen at a club, even when I'm just drinking water, or if my sleeves are just long and hang over my wrists, covering my hands. Some Lovatics don't notice anything. If I'd ever publicly do something bad they would ignore it, not believe it. Some Lovatics are in the middle, they are reasonable and fair but also careful with that. If I'm seen at a club, they'll assume I would only drink water or Redbull. If my sleeves are longer than normal they'll figure that's just the outfit, but still watch out for other pictures of me. And I love every single type of Lovatic. They get me through a lot.

But some Lovatics are starting to notice. The over protective ones have already been freaking out, the reasonable ones are becoming more suspicious. I'm slowly falling apart and I can't help it. I don't know what to do anymore.

I put my head in my hands. A few years ago everything was fine. I was okay, I was recovering, life was pretty decent. And now it's shit again. I haven't relapsed, I don't have the strength to. If I could down a bottle of vodka or take a blade to my skin right now, I would, but I don't even have the energy to do that.

Beside me Marissa sits up, her eyes staring into the back of my head. I can feel it. "Dem" she says and I ignore her. "DEM" she yells and I jump, my heart rate rising. I look at her and bite my lip.

She's gonna hurt you, run! Get away!

No, no, Marissa would never hurt me. She would never hurt me. I look at her with fearful but pleading eyes. "Come here baby" she says to me, holding her arms out, and I inch closer to her, letting her pull me to her body, my head resting on her chest. We lay there for a while, staying silent as Mar's hand rubs up and down my arm calmingly.

"DEMI!" We hear a scream and I jump up immediately. Dallas. I run to her room but fall due to the weakness of my body. I stay on the ground, tears rolling down my cheeks. Soon I feel a pair of arms around me and they lift me and carry me back to my room.

"I'll take care of it, stay here." Marissa says to me and I panic.

"No Mar she needs me! Please Mar please!" I beg her and she just quickly sighs and picks me up, carrying me to Dallas. I'm placed on Dallas' bed and immediately embrace her in my arms.

"Shhh Dally it's okay you're okay" I whisper to her as she sobs into my shoulder.

"H-H-He-" she starts but I cut her off.

"I know, I know. It wasn't real it was a dream, you're okay I promise." I say to her and she slightly nods. I pull her closer and she sobs louder. We lay there in silence until Maddie walks in. I look at her arms at the dark bruises on her wrists from the ropes and tape. I try to say something but Maddie just climbs next to me and grabs my free hand, rubbing it with her thumb gently. Again, we're silent.

I look at Maddie. Silent tears are running down her cheeks. Dallas is still sobbing. Marissa is sitting on the edge of the bed trying her best to hide her shaky hands from all the anxiety of the situation. And all I can think is

This is all my fault.

AN
Okay but does anyone with anxiety know that feeling of getting super anxious and super shaky and your breathing is really shallow and everything. Cause it fucking sucks. On a little different note, I was having a conversation with my aunt the other day. My aunt has really bad anxiety and depression and has bipolar disorder. She is honestly so strong though and one of my favorite people in the world. My two cousins aren't biologically related to us because they were my uncle's kids. So I was just talking to her and was like "imagine if you had a baby, it would be so cute" and she looked at me dead serious and was like "I would never have a baby" and I was like "you don't have to take care of it I'll take care of it!" Like jokingly, and she was like "I would never want to birth a human being with the chances of them having as much of a fucked up mind as I do. I would hate to put my mental illnesses on a child." And it made me pretty sad. So I was like "well I have mental illnesses and I wasn't that bad as a child" and she looked at me and was like "angel, you were suicidal at age 9". And I was like wow shit. And that was the end of that conversation. But yeah as always,
Stay Strong,
Giana❤️