Page 50 of Sin With Me
Too bad I don’t have any of Gramma Grace’s pot cookies.
Once I’m home, I hop in the shower since I didn’t have time before registration. I changed out of my work clothes and cleaned up the best I could, but now I’m craving the scalding-hot water on my skin.
My therapist calls it a form of self-destructive behavior. It’s an alternative to cutting but without the fear of bleeding out. It’s a way for me to regulate my emotions while replicating the relief I used to get.
Sometimes I’ll do ice-cold showers instead, usually if I’m hungover and have to go to work, but I’ll stay under the water until my skin feels like it’s frostbitten.
It’s not a healthy mechanism, by any means, but it’s the least damaging out of the others I’ve done.
Stepping in, I suck in a breath when the scorching water beads against my back, but I embrace the discomfort. Instead of feeding into the bad thoughts, my mind focuses on the pain while I wash my body and hair. When I change the spray pattern to a pulsating pressure, I let it drum hard against my chest until I can’t take it any longer.
By the time I get out, steam consumes the bathroom. When I wipe the mirror, I examine my body before wrapping myself in a towel. The temperature isn’t hot enough to cause scars but standing underneath it for more than ten minutes would do some temporary damage. After giving myself blisters a few years ago, I knew not to stay under it longer than that.
Since I didn’t eat dinner and The Lodge is closing soon, I make a few ham and cheese sandwiches. It’s pretty much the only thing I can ‘cook’ without setting off my smoke alarm.
I plop down on my couch in ripped lounge pants and set my paper plate of sandwiches on my bare stomach. With one foot propped up on my coffee table, game highlights playing on the TV, and a bottle of Coke next to me, I feel as pathetic as I must look.
Halfway through my second sandwich and doom scrolling on my phone, Delilah’s name pops up with a text.
I hate how fast I click on it and how her messaging me first kicks up my heart rate.
Delilah
How’d registration go?
Not wanting to come off too eager, I act indifferent that she’s asking me.
Wilder
Fine.
Delilah
When do you start?
Wilder
Saturday. I’ll work every weekend until I hit my hours.
Delilah
You’re gonna stay busy.
Wilder
Seems that way.
Delilah
You left before I could tell you…but you can’t blow up and overreact.
What the fuck now?
Setting my plate down on the table, I sit up with my elbows on my knees.
Wilder
What is it?
