Identity | Depressed Todoroki (Short Story)

3 | Regret

This story is not intended to promote or encourage actions/behaviors such as suicide, self-harm, purging, or eating disorders.

Swallowing thickly, Todoroki stood up and hobbled towards the sink to clean his dishes. He'd never eaten so much in one sitting, or even one day, and in his aching stomach, he could feel the weight of his consequences sloshing around. So, as he scrubbed away at his dirty dishes, his body attempted to scrub away the torment that he'd put himself through by consuming so much.

Why did I eat all that? Todoroki pondered as a hot, sizzling wave of guilt washed across his face. I know why, but I shouldn't have. I don't need to gain more weight. I'm fat enough as it is. Despite that, I still just want to eat. Now that I know it helps, I want to exploit this method to take every bit of relief it has to offer, regardless of how terrible the consequences really are. After drying his hands, he sank down against the kitchen counter and buried his head into his knees. Eating doesn't even make me happy. It just puts my mind in another place. It's like a false sense of feeling complete or whole again. Like I'll find myself again by deliberately indulging in these self-destructive things since they also keep me momentarily full—satisfied. Still, I shouldn't have eaten so damn much...

Todoroki placed his hand on his throbbing stomach. I'm so fat. What have I done? This wasn't worth it at all. Why did I think a brief moment of relief would be worth a long while of agony? Why did I let myself do this? Why did I keep going when I knew the consequences beforehand? He winced while creating a mental picture of how much fat was sitting in his stomach from eating so much. I know, but I'll still choose to deny the truth. I can't accept it, and yet, I'll continue to do it all the same. I regret it. I fucking regret all of it. Despite that, my mind still tells me to keep using this method because it works.

I keep piling up more and more methods, but at the end of the day, I just feel lost. What actually worked? I surround myself with so many, but they all boil down to the same gray mass of 'I don't know.' Yet, I associate myself with them as being a part of me. Like pristine puddles of paint on a palette being smudged together until a new, ugly whole is created from the constituents. Now, that ugly mistake is what the paints have become, and no longer can it return to existing as its severed components. Yet, just the components are mere fragments of a whole. Well, then...I really just don't know.

With livid thoughts pulsing through his head, Todoroki forced himself up to his feet again. He felt like his stomach would tear from everything that had been piled into it, and as such, he was struck with horrific discomfort upon standing.

I wish I could undo this all, Todoroki inwardly hissed. Who knows how much weight this will make me gain. I've been trying to lose weight because I'm fat, and yet, it feels like I ate everything in the kitchen. Like I slipped up once and lost control of myself. Like that's all it takes to make me lose control. Why? And why did I let myself push away the hesitation? I should've thought about this before doing it. I...

Throw it up, he suddenly thought. If you're so unhappy with what you and only you did to yourself, then throw it all up. If you regret it so much, do something about it. You wonder why you're not happy after everything, but what have you done? Nothing but exacerbate the wounds. You're in control again. Stop playing the victim. Stop acting like it's not your fault. Stop moping around and start taking responsibility for your actions. Go. What are you waiting for? Make yourself throw it up, fatass.