Psychosis

[CrankyOzzie]

"No! Grarr!" the voice coming from his lips was not his. The hand pounding itself against his skull as if trying to force it's way in was not his. The scars on his arms and legs were not his.

[i:3kjzi9yf]They were his! All his! No one could take them from him, no one! He'd show them! He'd show them not to mess with him! He'd hurt them, like they'd hurt him! Then they'd see, oh yes, then they'd see![/i:3kjzi9yf]

He wanted it to stop. He wanted to curl up and make it all go away, to sleep forever. The hand that smacked into his chest was not his, the half-distinguished, animalistic sounds coming from his throat were not his.

[b:3kjzi9yf]It was all his, all of it. The self-harm, the derangment, the inability to function normally. They were all HIS! He brought it upon himself. He could have stopped it, but he didn't. Now he was paying the price, the fool. FOOL! you could have stopped it! But no, too weak, too pathetic. . . fool[/b:3kjzi9yf]

No, he didn't want it. He hated it! Gods, would it never end? He wanted to be free of it. Make it stop!

[i:3kjzi9yf]It will never[/i:3kjzi9yf]
[b:3kjzi9yf]stop, fool![/b:3kjzi9yf]
[i:3kjzi9yf]It's part of you now[/i:3kjzi9yf]
[b:3kjzi9yf]Pathetic![/b:3kjzi9yf]
[i:3kjzi9yf]It's what makes you, you.[/i:3kjzi9yf]
[b:3kjzi9yf]Weak![/b:3kjzi9yf]

Stop! Oh please, just stop! Rocking back and forth, hands slapping into his head. Tears fell, as he fought the internal battle. Each time, he felt it harder to resist. Fear and self-loathing mingled. What if - next time - he lost the fight? What if HE never came back? What if he turned some sort of manic, mindless thing? The terror of what may be made him shiver.

Exhaustion overcame him, he lay down on his side on the floor and let the sweet oblivion of sleep take him over. But he knew it wasn't over. He knew it never would be. Not so long as he lived.