Behind Closed Doors

"I'm fine." She said, heading straight up to her room and closing the door. But the truth was, she wasn't fine. Not really.

Behind closed doors, tears flowed freely from Ellen's eyes.
"What is it?" She asked out loud. "What's wrong with me? Why aren't I good enough for anybody?"
The pain seemed unbearable. Ellen grabbed her razor from the vanity table against the wall and sat cross legged on the floor. She began to dig the blade into her skin, drawing blood that oozed from the cut and ran down her arm. Her face became scrunched up with the pain, but she kept doing it, trying to replace the intense emotional pain with physical.

Hours later, Ellen hastily tried to clean herself up, wiping away the blood and cleaning the razor blade so not a trace of her actions would be left behind. It was then that she lay back down on the bed and dissolved into tears once more.

"Why me!?" She felt like screaming at the world. In her final year of school, stress levels were high and the workload just kept on piling up. On top of all that, school brought with it the lovely added drama of social cliques and moods. There were people who were your best friends one day and your greatest enemies the next. Ellen couldn't help but feel like she was going insane. She was sick of it. Completely fed up. Yet, she still had the burning desire for friends. The need to fit in. She wanted to be accepted for who she was. Only, nothing seemed to be going her way.

Up until now, Ellen had been able to tuck everything away. Act like nothing happened. No one ever suspected a thing. But now she was starting to feel overwhelmed. It was all too much. The pressure of everything bottled up inside had caused the lid to pop off of it's own accord and the contents of the bottle, Ellen's emotions, were falling out in a long, relentless flow. It came out as tears, anger, self harm as she tried desperately to replace the intense emotional pain she felt with physical and negative voices in her head. A mind monster. 'You're not good enough.' It said. 'You're worthless.', 'How could anybody ever like you?'

The problem lay in winning the battle. The hardest part was speaking about it. To Ellen, her problems seemed petty. Stupid. They didn't really matter. Until her mother caught her one afternoon, alone in her room and confronted her.
"Ellen?" She said, standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock at what she saw. "What are you doing?"
Ellen froze. After a long while, she slowly looked up at her mother, pain evident in her eyes.
Concern in her eyes, Ellen's mother came closer, sympathy in her eyes and helped her daughter to her feet. She slipped her arms around the young, vulnerable girl and led her over to the bed, sitting down and allowing Ellen to fall back into her arms.

Ellen dissolved into tears as her mother hugged her tightly.
"Ellen, what's going on honey?" Her mother asked after a while. It took a bit of time for Ellen to regain control of herself, but even when she did, talking was a struggle.
"I'm not anybody." She said through her heavy sobs. "No one cares about me."
Ellen's mother rubbed her back as Ellen tried to get the words out. "No you're not. I love you, your dad loves you. Everyone in the family does. We'd all miss you."
"You're the only ones." Ellen said as negative thoughts took over once again. "I bet you're the only ones who would even come to my funeral. Everyone else would be having a party because I was gone. They'd be celebrating it."

Ellen's mother was suddenly serious.  "Hey!" She said seriously, pulling away and holding her daughter's shoulders firmly, studying her face. "Don't you ever talk like that. You hear me?"
Ellen nodded weakly, staring down at the bedspread.
"You are loved." Her mother said again. "You are loved very much. You are not worthless. You're so beautiful. You're funny, you're outgoing..."
Ellen looked up at her with sad eyes, causing her mother to stop talking. "You really think so?" She asked quietly.
"Yes." Her mother said firmly, demanding the girl's attention. "Now Ellen, I want you to hear me when I say this."
There was a short pause and then Ellen nodded.

"This is only the start. It's not going to get better straight away. You've got to work at it. Fight it."
"The voices in my head?"
"Yes." Her mother answered. "The voices in your head, the urges to hurt yourself. But, you've got to do it one day, one step, at a time. Ok?"
Again, Ellen nodded.
Her mother held out her hand. "And, I'll be here every step of the way."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you are hurting, you are not alone. There is always help available. Belle's Recovery Project is one such help, run by my friend Isabella https://www.facebook.com/BellesRecoveryProject