Vacancy

Prologue

                                   (A/N: TW for body-imagery, read at your own disgression) 

It's impossible to say when waking up became such a hassle. I suppose it started with an obsession of watching the insides of my eyelids and disappearing in the quiet sanctuary of my bed. I always keep the drapes closed to avoid reminding myself that the world goes on without me, despite me. The sun still rises and sets, but while my eyes remain closed, days cease for at least a little while. The world slows down for when I sleep. 

The night before now consisted of watching old sit-coms in a sad attempt to feel something close to amusement at least and procrastinating another meal I can't afford. There is barely any food left in the kitchen and once it's all gone then that means I have to leave the house. The crippling anxiety that seizes my entire being with those thoughts is enough to forget the rumblings of my stomach. I settled on the last pack of emergency saltines I keep in my nightstand, took my medicine, and closed the day off without even having to leave my bed.

Which brings me here today,  not having moved from my bed yet, starring at the pathetic cracked black screen of my IPhone. It feels like so long ago that I had smashed it, I can't even remember why I got so upset. Dropping the dead phone carelessly beside myself, I drag my gaze over the edge my bed, and adjacent is my bathroom door left open almost inviting or challenging me to leave the room . I rationalize that getting out of bed would be something good and knew if I did not make use of this sudden energy then I would surely never get to it.  I squeeze my eyes closed for one second longer and, before I can think about the 'why's I may regret it, roll off the side of my bed. The loud smack resounding from my large bare thighs hitting the hardwood is enough to wake up my senses along with the sting of impact from my braced hands . "Shit, that was a great idea" I groaned to myself, hoping it'd be worth it in the end. Let's see if the end justifies the means. 

Reaching up I grab onto my nightstand and heave myself  up off the floor onto unstable legs, the room spinning and tilting uneasily . At least I made it off my bed, small victories. I squint over to the rectangular alarm clock sitting on my nightstand , it shone in a large obnoxious red  '6am', and I can't help but scoff. Heaven forbid it matters if I wake up early anymore. Willing my legs to cooperate, I make my way into the bathroom and keeping my gaze from the mirror I ought to take out. If I didn't already expect it, the smell that wafts from my armpits would have surely killed me with it's own shamefulness and embarrassment , however without anyone around but myself- who's to care. I quickly strip out of my tatted up shorts and oversized San Francisco t-shirt and, without looking, toss them to the farthest corner where already sits mound of unwashed clothes. Now comes turning on the shower and waiting for the water to heat up. That's when I happen to catch a glimpse of my body in the mirror. Looking back at myself was a completely and utterly disgusting sack of flesh. Thighs squashed together and littered with stretch marks , stomach bulging and stretching out like a sad old waterballoon , cheeks still as swollen fat as I remembered, dark bags sunken under brown eyes, and the icing on the cake- scars scattering along my hips, collarbones, forearms, and inner-thighs. At the very least my long enough dirty brown to blue hair to falls passed my shoulders to hide them, while also shining with sebum to make up for it. Once upon a time, I thought it the best idea to dye my hair blue and now I am left with a half brown half faded blue mess. 

I have to resist the strong urge to cover up the mirror or run back into the comfort of my bed and carefully climb into the now steaming shower. Trying not to stare mindlessly too long at the wall of the shower I welcome the water to wash away my ugliness. Time melts away, my life melts away, and I allow myself to lean against on of the walls housing in the small shower.  The steam eventually starts to make me feel just a bit more lightheaded than is comfortable and so I finish the duties of washing my body and hair. Thankfully I had left a clean towel hanging over the shower door for myself the last time I used the bathroom and pull it down to then dry off and change into some loungewear. Grey sweatpants and another worn t-shirt that I'm pretty sure isn't actually mine to donn around, knowing I'm not going to step outside at any time today so why the hell not relax. I padded down the hall and into the joint kitchen- living room space and check the fridge. Even though I'm not too fond of food anymore, I still consider breakfast to be my favorite meal of the day. I peer into the off-white (almost yellow ) old fridge , only seeing 3  sliced apples and a greek yogurt. I decide on the last yogurt to treat myself and go to sit by the only window that wasn't blocked off. It overlooks the only place I enjoy checking up on. ( something about a grand willow tree that has a bird house, likes to watch the birds care for each other) 

This was my life. Stuck living in an apartment my parents are currently paying for , watching the days go passed almost like it's nothing.  I hope one day things will change for the better but for right now, this is how good things get for me. 

I pull out my laptop and read countless stories (about what) and listen to countless songs that blend into the background to my thoughts until it's about  midnight and I've worn myself out once again.  

My name is Elizabeth Carver, I'm a 19 year old college drop-out, and I have major depressive disorder and anxiety.