~Her pov~

Negative thoughts rang out in my head. I couldn’t stop them. How many mental breakdowns would I go through alone? Maybe I prefer to go through this alone. Nobody cares to ask how I really am anyways. This hurt more than anything I have felt before, and this wasn’t even a physical hurt. Well, I can’t say there is no physical pain in this. My heart felt heavy, as if it was sinking to the floor. My hands were shaky and my breathing turned to hyperventilation. I grew nauseous and felt dizzy. I let out an anguished cry and sank to the floor. I wrapped my arms around myself and hot, salty tears raced down my cheeks and ran off my chin. Why does it hurt so much?

~Her mind’s pov~

Anxious, depressed, lonely, and lazy. That’s the truth. No matter what we do there is always something wrong with us, there is always a possible insult. She can’t do anything right. Everything was falling apart. Every relationship, everything at school, and even our appearance seemed to be against us.

This was one of the many breakdowns I had caused this week. I don’t know why I say these things to her, I simply say the truth.

“What if it’s not the truth?” a small voice tells me.

“What do you mean? Of course it’s the truth?” I retort.

“So what if she has some flaws? You are making her feel as if she is worthless when you know she isn’t! She is smart, beautiful, kind, and has an amazing personality. Quit making her feel like this, quit making her feel like she can’t talk to someone about these feelings! She shouldn’t have to go through this alone, no one should. Apologize to her. Tell her something good about herself for once,” the voice sternly spoke.

Why should I apologize? That voice can’t be right? Can they? I decide that I do owe her an apology.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel this way. I’m supposed to help you through things, not be against you. I’m sorry that I, your mind, can be your worst enemy. You are absolutely gorgeous, you are compassionate, you are intelligent, and our sense of humor is on point. You don’t deserve these mental breakdowns and I’m so sorry for causing them. I’ll try my hardest not to let you think bad about yourself. We got this.”

~Her pov~

I looked up and wiped my face. Black smudges were on my fingers. I thought this mascara was supposed to be waterproof. I sniffed and finished up wiping the last of the tears. My eyes are surely red and puffy, and I most likely looked an unruly mess. I sighed. I would recover soon enough. One thing was for sure,

“I’ll get past this.”