Don't You Know I Love You?

lana winters | you should've let me go

major tw! : depression, suicide, sh, gore, anxiety attack

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I'd fallen again. I'd fallen into a bottomless pit and there seemed to be no way out. And let's face it, the only real person who could save me was myself. I didn't trust anybody else half as much as I did myself.

I didn't let anyone see me this way, I couldn't let anyone see me this way, I wouldn't be able to overcome the guilt of being that vulnerable. Even if I tried reaching out, nobody would care enough to help me. That's how it always went. No one truly cares unless you're dead, and then they wonder what they could've done to help.

My girlfriend, Lana, must've been suffering the most and I felt horrible about it. She knew I was struggling and she helped as much as she could, but in the end I always forced her behind closed doors until I felt the storm finally passed. All I wanted to do was see her, I wanted to be near her, I wanted to feel her bright energy that radiated off of her, but I couldn't. I couldn't let her be crushed anymore than she already had. I couldn't let her take care of a sick person.

One night it got really bad. I felt like I was trapped within my own body, like my soul was unable to escape. I had been overthinking for hours which ended up sending me into a panic attack, that lasted over an hour.

I had found myself in the bathtub. I didn't know how I ended up there. My mind was fogged up and went blank for a while. I was still fully clothed as i noticed the boiling water coming from the shower head and crashing onto my matted hair. The water started to make my skin turn a bright red, and yet it felt nice.

I stayed that way for a while contemplating on what I should do. I couldn't call Lana I didn't want to worry her. All I could seem to do was rock back and forth and wait until it would stop. When this happened it felt like someone took my lungs and compressed them in a plastic bag until all the air was sucked out, and then gave them back to me. It felt like someone was controlling my own body but the controller had gotten water splashed on it and I was unable to stop myself from malfunctioning.

This feeling seemed like it would never end. I waited and I waited, and still nothing. I was panicking and punching the sides of the tub hoping my body would stop rejecting itself, but nothing seemed to work. I felt helpless. And this wasn't the first time this has happened either, and lately it seemed to be getting worse. It went from once a month, to a few times a month, and now once a week minimum. I was living in constant fear of wondering what was going to happen to me when I wouldn't be able to control these attacks any longer.

I'd become sick. Both internally and externally. My teeth were now a deep shade of yellow and my body ached constantly. I was stuck inside depression's grasp who dug it's claws deeper into me whenever I tried to escape.

There was no tomorrow for me, I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. It had gone out years ago. I didn't want to keep living this way. And as much as people told me 'I wasn't alone', I was. I was completely abandoned in a world full of people. Nobody wanted to help me anymore. I was merely a chore left in the corner that nobody bothered to acknowledge, a trash bag that reeked and was sinking into the ground.

I laid there in the tub, barely able to breathe, and it was time. It was time for me. I had experienced enough for me to be able to go without doubts. I fell in love, I traveled a bit, I lived a steady life, I was ready. If everybody dies eventually, what's one more?

I'd left my blades in the drawer just beside me. Easy access. I opened the drawer without hesitation and pulled one out, the sharpest one, and held it just in front of my face. My hands had been trembling the entire time, yet for these few seconds they were completely still. I was completely still. I was at peace with finally accepting the fact that I would die young.