WARNING: This story contains some references to addiction and implied suicidal thoughts/attempt suicide/suicide. I guess in a way this chapter is kinda on the dark side.
Story Sixteen: Sharmell's Addiction
Quit Hurting Yourself
Looking at the half empty bottle of pills, she sighed wearily as she shifted to and fro on the cold wooden bench in the empty ladies' locker room. Sharmell was tired, emotionally and physically. Tired of trying to prove herself to others... tired going above and beyond what was asked... tired of being herself... tired of living in general. She stood from the bench, with the bottle still in her hand, and walked to the back of the locker room where the toilets, showers, and sink were located.
"I look like a mess," Sharmell said as she looked at her face in the mirror over the sink that was the farthest from the opened doorway. She pushed back her hair with one hand as she set the bottle down on the sink counter with the other. Sharmell shook her head at in pity again as she turned the faucet on. Waiting for the water to warm up, she sighed at her messy state.
I never use to be or look like this, Sharmell thought to herself. The water warmed and she cupped her hands under the steady stream. After she gathered a sufficient amount of water she splashed it onto her face. She grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser next to her and blotted her face dry.
She looked at the bottle of pills again. Her trembling hand dropped the used paper towel into the trash disposal. Slowly, she moved it towards the bottle. Sharmell let her finger tips touch the bottle before she halted the movement.
"I have to stop!" she yelled. "I don't need them, not anymore!" Despite the fact that she was saying one thing, her body was definitely saying another. Sharmell needed those pills, she did... how else was she going to be able to wrestle, or handle stress, or breathe, or just get by the day. Though the more she needed them the more she seemed to be tired.
The injury, that's what did it... she thought; that's why I'm tired of this life. That was the cause of all the pain and misery in her life; not the pills. The pills helped her work her way back to WWE. The injury is what caused her to be fired from the WWE. The pills kept her from stressing out. The injury is what helped her get stress out. The pills are what kept the pain away. The injury is what caused her the pain.
Sharmell turned her attention back to the still running water. She turned the cold knob as far as it could go shooting out more cold water, and turned the hot knob off. She didn't want to do it, she really didn't; but Sharmell couldn't help it, she was tired. "I know I promised... but I can't," she mumbled to herself.
"I can't, I can't, I can't," Sharmell repeated as her eyes started to fill with tears. They started to spill over one by one. Only one person knew of her struggle. He called it an "addiction," but she didn't. It wasn't an addiction to Sharmell... not really, just something to keep the stress away, something to help the pain, something to get through the day.
But she also promised him. He begged and pleaded for her to stop taking the pills, and she agreed to keep him quiet. Sharmell did it; she kept her promise for a day. That's all she could do before her body betrayed her and craved it... needed it... begged for it. Overall, Sharmell was tried of always giving in to that craving and sometimes she saw herself as weak for doing it. But many times, more like all the time, she looked weak when she didn't do it.
That was the worst thing in the world for Sharmell, to look feeble, frail, weak. She hated to appear that way and she hated for anyone to think that she's like that. She was far from that. So she concluded that she had to break of her promise to him to keep from looking like that. He would never see her as weak and torn. It would kill her if he did because he was the only one that truly believed in her.
He didn't even know she broke her promise. And deep down she hated herself for letting him think differently; but her couldn't help it. She couldn't help it... her body yearn for them. And she complied. And continued to feel tired because of it.
She brought her hands to her face and wiped the tears away. Sharmell held her quivering hand out and closed her eyes. "I'm so tired. So very tired." She opened her eyes and her hand steadied. Her hand slowly moved to the bottle of pills. When they finally reached it, she opened the bottle with one hand and held the palm on the other open near it. Shaking the bottle in a tilted position, a small pill fell into her hand. With the other hand, she put the bottle on the counter of the sink.
"So tired," she repeated. Sharmell's red eyes looked at her haggard appearance in the mirror. "So tired." She opened the hand that didn't contain the pill and formed it in the shape of a small cup. Her hand went under the cold torrent of water and collected in a small puddle. Opening her mouth, she set the pill on her tongue. She brought the handmade cup of water to her mouth and drank it; washing the pill down her throat.
"I'm so tired," Sharmell whispered as she picked up the opened bottle off the counter. She tilted the bottle and shook another pill from it to her hand. Slowly she set the bottle back on the sink counter. Cupping her hand again, she filled it with water. Sharmell put the pill on her tongue; brought the collected water to her mouth and drank it quickly.
"Tired," she murmured. And she picked up the bottle again....
*******
"Sharmell?" she shouted as she slapped her face. "Sharmell?" She noticed that her chest was slowly moving up and down; a little too slowly. She picked up her weak hand and set two fingers on her wrist to locate the pulse. Finding it to be slow and faint, she stood up quickly. As she ran from the back of the locker room to the front, she made it to the door and jerked it open.
"Lilian? What's wrong?" he asked. He could tell something wasn't right by the way Lilian appeared to be frantic and frazzled.
"Shane! Just the person I needed," Lilian said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the locker room.
Shane looked at her with confusion. "Lilian, what's wrong?"
"It's Sharmell," she said as she dragged him to the back.
When they came to her body, which was laid out on the floor, Shane quickly ran to her. "Call EMS Lilian... quickly!"
Lilian nodded her head and ran back out of the locker room.
Shane sat on the floor and moved her head to where it was laying on crossed legs. "Sharmell? Sweetie? Please wake up!" he yelled as he slightly shook her still, cold body. Tears gathered in his eyes. "Come on! All I wanted was for you to quit hurting yourself."
He continued to yell as the paramedics rushed in with a stretcher and their equipment.