Mini Brain Dumps

Trigger Warning: This piece contains themes of emotional distress, self-image issues, and internal struggle. Reader discretion is advised for those sensitive to topics surrounding mental health and personal adversity.

I looked into the reflective glass and see someone staring back at me. I see the skin pulled taunt over bones, the sunken eye holes. I can see the words of strangers that have battered and bruised them, almost as if they are tattooed on their skin for the world to see. They avoid my gaze. Their eyes lingering on the imperfections that they see, ones that others would die to have. The dips in their hips that prevent them from wearing tight fitting clothing, the little bump of their stomach, the too big thighs, and too thin lips. All of it blurring together as the tears fill their eyes.

 Once they would look at their reflection and see the beauty there. But now, a lifeless husk stood in their place. What happened to them? The world may never know. Because showing pain meant being weak. And weakness was never okay.

So, they go about their day, wearing the baggy clothes that hide their figure and hope that someone might care enough to notice them withering away. Because they can’t help themselves. They were far too broken.