Lies (of the Mind)
Lies (of the mind)
Written by dornish queen
Characters: left ambiguous
DO NOT READ UNTIL YOU HAVE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS; IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING IN THE WARNINGS, I STRONGLY ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ
Trigger Warnings: person in mental health crisis, depression, mental illness, seeking help
Notes: No character models were used; no celebrity featured. I was going to write in Pedro as the boyfriend, but with the topic being dark, I didn’t want to associate this with anyone specific. So, characters are ambiguous. I was in a dark place when I wrote most of this. But I’m getting better.
You’re broken
You failed
You can’t take care of yourself
You should have done it
As you sit in the passenger seat of his car, you can’t help but feel all of these things. He’s going out of his way to get you the help you need, and yet all you can think of is WHY? Why go through all this trouble for you?
You’re not worth it.
If you would have just done it at the pier, you wouldn’t be feeling the way you do now. Heavy. Everything is heavy and it’s pulling you inward on yourself.
You should have done it, and he would be free of you. Because he deserves that. A life free from someone like you. And he’ll be happy.
You feel the car lurch to a stop at a red light, a fresh trail of tears streak down your face. It wants to come out, you feel it erupting and boiling over in your chest and throat as you look at the car next to you. The driver is looking directly at you and you feel the shame begin to build. What a sight you must be!
The light turns green and you curl over to your side to face him. Just focus on his face and his beautiful nose, that you love so much. Try your best to hold it all in and keep it together. But your cracking and begin to sob openly. The flood gates open and everything just pours out of you. You can’t control it.
You feel his warm hand on your thigh, moving slowly in a figure eight pattern. You grab his hand and bring it to your chest. Holding his large hand in yours and cradling it to your heart as though it could cure your pain.
“I’m sorry.” You breathed into his hand.
“What are you sorry for, Love?” The tone of his voice low and soothing. You notice the slight rasp, like he had been screaming too.
You look up at him, but his eyes are on the road. You hesitate to answer, because you don’t have one. You don’t know why you always are sorry. But you always do. Always feel the need to apologize. What are you seeking forgiveness for?
All you can do is sit there for what feels like an eternity, just holding and squeezing his hand to your heart. Lowering your head to cover your face, as though to hide yourself from the world, even from him.
The car comes to a gentle stop and you look up so see that you are in the parking lot of the behavioral health facility. You feel your body double over for another bout of uncontrollable sobbing.
You’re broken…. You’re a failure….
“Are you mad at me?” You manage get out in between breaths. You made everything so difficult for him, of course he would be mad at you. He should be. This is all your fault. Why do you have to make things so hard?
But all you feel is his arms reach around you to hold you. You feel his face press against yours, his fingers threading through your hair.
“shhh…it’s okay.” His voice breaks through the voice that’s in your head. “I’m not mad, baby. Never.”
“I’m scared.” Finally, some truth come out of you.
“I know, honey.” He says. “You know all that scared you feel…. I want you to give all that to me. Give me all of that scared you feel. And when we walk inside together, you won’t feel as scared. Okay? Can you do that for me, baby?”
You take several shaky breaths, while he holds onto you tight. And when you’re ready, you open the car door and step outside. He is there in an instant to hold you up and you both take the steps that lead to the door that says “Intake”.