Medical Knife Chapter 8: Updates, a sherlock fanfic

Disclaimer! (Do I really need to say this?)

A/N Okay, I honestly didn't see that coming. I was writing this with something else in mind then, well, John decided to go in another direction...

Tell me what you think! I thrive from reviews, so don't be shy!

Criticism welcomed!

Enjoy

Medical Knife

Upload time: 5:34 pm, October 5 – Entry 31 [Fifteen Days]

Nothing extraordinary has happened these past few weeks, since I last cut, which is why I haven't posted anything in so long. All I can say is that it's surprisingly not very tense, and normal… almost. I'm 15 days clean, by the way—not a scratch, not a mark. My flatmate has been surprisingly helpful and discreet when it comes to my latest (and last, hopefully) injuries. I'd mentioned before that, after I told him about succumbing to the temptation, he'd made it a rule that I be checked daily for scratches or for prolonging the healing of the injury. It's been an unspoken thing, up until now. He enters my room in the morning, calmly, naturally, as if it were normal for him to have to make sure I was alright, and he wouldn't say a word. Instead, he usually scans over me for a moment – he is always fast – then looks to me, and it's usually quite early, and I'm still groggy, but I get the feeling he is trying to tell me that he thinks I'm doing well. It was never said (nor was anything, for that matter), but it felt like he was worried. I can never tell, it always felt like a dream, and in return I wouldn't say anything either. We go about our days quite normally.

Until this morning, when I was due for a "check-up", when he stood, after examining my thigh injuries, and straightened his collar. He just stood there. And then I stared, and fidgeted a bit when I realized he was waiting for something. I asked him what he was waiting for, or if he wasn't happy with the progress of my healing, and he still didn't say anything. I was about to stand when he finally spoke. "You should ask more questions," was all he said before turning his back and left me to contemplate his unusual and disturbing behavior.

What the hell am I supposed to make of that?

[15 Comments]

Date Uploaded: October 8 – Entry/DELETED/

Upload time: 3:40am, October 9 - Entry 32 [Untitled]

Self-harm is the most ridiculous desire, I'm dead serious. Along with the strangest urge to harm yourself, you also scope out others of similar habit. You check their wrists, forearms, ankles (any exposed skin, really) just to see if they're that type of person. Maybe I do it because I don't want to be alone in this. Maybe I just want to pity someone. Maybe I want someone to take pity on me. I'm a less than observant person in most cases—well, I'm average, I suppose—but when it comes to injury, when it comes to illness, when it comes to trauma, I can detect it. It's bloody uncomfortable to be aware of these things.

Yesterday, I happened to run into someone bearing a great resemblance to my sister, down to the point of being hung-over. Granted, it was a work case on a Monday, and she was probably just a little worse for wear after the weekend, but still… it wasn't a pleasant reminder. Naturally, as a doctor, I did a check up on her after she felt dizzy, and I looked for scars (there weren't any, and I don't know why I was disappointed), and I prescribed her mild medication, but I was left with a strange question in my head, and I haven't been able to get it out: What gives me the right to be so unhappy?

I don't know how to answer that.

[29 Comments]

Upload time: 12:01 am, October 10 – Entry 33 [Untitled]

It was brought to my attention (you know who you are) that the reason I might be unhappy is that I'm lonely. Well, I can't say that I'm lonely, per say—there are times I feel a little isolated, but mostly, I don't mind having few friends, or one-time dates, or anything of that sort. My business outside of the office is actually quite fulfilling.

If I think about it, I feel like I'm complaining when there's nothing to complain about.

Thank you, by the way—everyone who gave me support in regards to my self harm and who shared their stories about alcoholism and depression.

I'm not really in the mood to say much. I don't know, really. It's late and I should try to sleep.

[10 Comments]

Upload time: 4:16 am, October 20 – Entry 34 [Untitled]

I've taken this week off work (both jobs) for medical reasons. That's all I have to share.

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Upload time: 1:30 pm, October 22 – Entry 35 [Untitled]

Why am I getting so many messages asking if I've committed suicide? Would I respond if I had?

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Upload time: 4:30 am, October 22 – Entry 36 [Untitled]

I'm not contemplating suicide, by the way.

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Upload time: 7:00 am, October 23 – Entry 37 [Untitled]

What the hell is it that I can't just get time alone? My flatmate has taken to checking in on my every hour, though the answers elude me as to why the bloody hell he'd be so damn priggish about it. With his talent for observing, he should be able to tell that I'm fine and not in need of supervision. I'm not a bloody child, I don't need supervision. I don't know why, but this morning he cleared out my drawers and sheets and mattress (among other things) and checked me twice for injuries (which are healing quite nicely, I might add). Whenever I ask him about his REAL motives for rearranging my room and acting so mysterious, he says that he trusts me less now, though for what reason I don't know.

That man. He gets on my nerves.

Beside my home life, I haven't gone back to work (to either job)—I've been too tired (and sore) lately. I suspect it's some sort of cold. I'm not sure where I got it from.

[51 Comments]

Upload time: 7:30 pm, October 23 – Entry 38 [Untitled]

I might just delete this blog. He, the controlling cock with whom I share a flat, is reading my blog and has recently told me that my post about suicide is evidence of my thinking about committing suicide. (I've known he follows me.)

It should have come easily to him that I was only addressing the overwhelming amount of messages concerning my mental stability. Leave it to him to take it too far. Thanks to that, he has "forbid" me to enter the kitchen, bathroom (unless the door is unlocked or open), and his place of work, and I am not "allowed" to go to my job. This afternoon, he came home and told me that I had to leave the house with him, that he "couldn't risk it" – my being home alone. Like I wasn't alone the whole day.

As pissed as I am to have my privacy invaded, it makes me wonder what the hell I must look like to everyone if HE is acting this way. My landlady gave me a sweet smile when I got out of bed to follow the psycho to "the scene" (as I will now refer to regarding my second job). I didn't feel well enough to be out, so I really was of no use.

Funny. I don't feel like cutting. I don't feel a lot of things. My dreams (whenever I have one) haven't effected me these past… two (I think) weeks. Not the way they usually do. A lot of things are different, and for the life of me I can't tell what it is that changed.

[70 Comments]

Upload time: 2:00 am, October 24 – Entry 39 [Untitled]

I just realized that it is me who changed. Me. I woke up a moment ago, and on my way to the loo, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I've never not recognized myself before, and it was… terrifying. My flatmate was in my doorway when I returned, and he just knew that I'd realized something. He looked to my wrists and to my legs quickly, then to my eyes. I suspect it was that he looked me in the eyes that made him aware of… something. God, I don't even know what it is, let alone what it's doing to me… "Get your sleep," he said, calmly as he always (almost always) was. "In the morning, we're doing something. And no, you will not ask questions, nor will you disregard me."

This put me off a bit—what does he have planned for tomorrow? No matter how hard I try, I can't stay awake any longer… I really don't want to wake up.

[15 comments]

Upload time: 4:00 pm, October 24 – Entry 40 [Untitled]

I don't know why I was dreading waking up this morning. At nine this morning, my flatmate woke me and told me to get dressed. He said I needed additional structure to my life, so I was to follow him to the scene, and I was to participate and do as I usually am expected. He shoved a coffee into my hands and, after assuring that I hadn't recently harmed, left me to dress. I was tired, and I wasn't at my best, but I'm surprised that I did so well. The people I work along side were surprised I was out again.

I'm sitting in the living room and waiting for Chinese food delivery. I guess I hadn't been eating much, and although I'm not particularly hungry right now, I don't have much of a choice. My flatmate is making sure I eat. Oh. He's looking over my shoulder right now. Hello. Care to say a few words to the internet? No? Okay, goodbye, I'm glad you "approve" of my writing.

Bloody hell. Food came. Correction, I'm hungry.

[50 Comments]

Upload time: 9:30 pm, October 26 – Entry 41 [Untitled]

Thank you. Everyone who checked in on me daily, who encouraged me to keep my head up, I thank you.

My flatmate is giving me more space, now that I'm "looking well". Better, I should say. Again, he said something peculiar, and I'm not sure what it means: "Timing is everything."

[103 Comments]

Upload time: 3:48 am, October 30 – Entry 42 [Untitled]

It is either that I am tired, or wanting to hurt myself, lately. Where is the middle ground? While I am now capable of waking up at early hours and staying awake and overall operating like a capable human-being, I've now replace the dead-weight, strained eyes feeling of constant tire with the anxiety over NOT cutting. It's torturous, it's fucking horrible, it's completely ruining my ability to socialize—when I'm not (suddenly) dead-tired, that is. I don't know how I've gotten through the workdays, or how I even get through this day…

My trauma flashbacks are here again. They're coming on worse than ever – I don't know why I didn't want to not feel them. Not feeling them (or anything, for that matter) is bloody well better than having even a scrape, an inkling, of the increasingly vivid dreams. I think they're getting longer … I can actually feel my dreams again. They're painful. This one I just woke from still has my muscles in knots. I can't even get back to sleep.

My sister is back to drinking, and it's worse now—she's never had her stomach pumped before. I was stupid to think her recovery was getting on the way she said.

I don't really know what I'm doing anymore. There seems to be less and less of a reason to do anything, like get up from bed, or go for groceries, or do paper work. The light that shines outside my window in the morning is always so dull (at first). I often used to wake up at the right time, and experience the sun rise, and grow brighter and brighter. I haven't been getting much sleep at night, so I've been awake to see this nearly every day. It grows brighter, just as it ought… and today I realized that there's no promise any more. There's nothing to expect from the new day. ( Excitement and danger aren't really enticing, either.)

My flatmate is more concerned and he watches me much more intensely now. He's given up some of his work just to do so. He doesn't really say anything odd about the reasons why he is keeping an eye on me, he just acts normally (suspiciously, though, as I know better than to think he's not nosing around or doing something I'm not yet aware of). He's having me do way too much for him, though, and they're things I don't even think he really wants done. Busy work, I suppose. It's all becoming terribly trivial and I'm used to it. The only time it's different is when he gives me a look when he thinks I'm not being "observant", and it… it is very rarely that I see him fearful… I'd rather not deal with it right now, but… well, I don't know. I don't think I know how to feel—rather, how to distinguish what I feel. Not that I'm feeling much, nothing beyond bare instincts… it's quite odd, I don't know how else to describe it.

On an unrelated matter, yesterday, he played violin for hours, and I'd never heard him play that particular piece before. It stuck with me, sort of like the way an annoying radio song might stick with you. I guess that's a feeling.

[72 Comments]

Upload time: 8:00 pm, October 30 – Entry 43 [Untitled]

I might as well tell him about what I'm having a hard time not doing. I said I would. I'm not sure how it'll help, but he deserves to know.

[10 Comments]

Upload time: 7:30 pm, October 31 – Entry 44 [Untitled]

There are no blades for me to use. None, whatsoever. My flatmate was right to take them.