Therapy With My Heartbeat

CW: Mental health and self-harm

Therapy with My Heartbeat

Beep. Beep ———————— Beep

After death, we simply wander around. Is that not true?

“You did what you could, right? To be alive and to be happy? Someone your people can be proud of—someone you could be proud of. You did right?”

The girl was lonely. People thought she was “quite.” People thought she was “weird.” She wasn't really. She was just... different, she craved more that the average person.

Now she was somewhere unfamiliar. New. Scary.

Could she— maybe... figure this out, Unlike the life she left?

“Oh dear, this is a rough one.”

The figure was dark, but seemed to hold so much light. So much warmth. The girl felt like the light was here just for her, to protect, to comfort.

But she was dead… right? So what was this light? A god?

“You misunderstand, Girl." The Light pauses "How is your school life?”

The girl was confused. Why would the Light care about her school life? About her life? Wouldn’t it just want to put her away, to where she was going to stay? Wasn’t she just a burden to get rid of as soon as possible?

“I lived well, Mr. Light. My school life is… colorful. Lots of people. Lots of things to do.”

The Light sighed. “Child, I am not foolish. How did you really feel? Was colorful the same as hopeful? Your peers were good at magic. They were good at cooking too. What about you? What were you good at?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Light.”

This was the truth. The girl did not know.

She was blissfully aware of her circumstances. She wasn't good at magic, or cooking. But she felt she had skills of her own. Wasn't that good enough for others? Apparently not.

Or maybe she would still be alive.

“Mr. light. Why have I died? Did I do something wrong?” The girl asked hopefully. “And where am I?

Is this heaven? Am I... At peace at last?” Her voice trembled in hope. Had her redemption finally come?

The Light smirked. Why would this child assume she is dead?

Why would she think she’s in heaven? Why should she know anything?

“You're not dead. Unless you want to be. When you die. You are given a choice. I never truly understand why many choose what they do. To be so sure, and not know what's next. But I am not your guidance. I am your friend. All I want to do is talk.”

“Talk?”

“Talk about what you did to get here. Why you feel the way you do.”

The girl was not perfect, she had pressure, so much pressure, that felt so heavy, was that her fault? No. Certainly not. Life had a way to make you revere it. To make you fear it.

“I was fine Mr. Light. I just ... had little hope. It was rather dim. In my life, things like politics are focused on too much. Things like moral. The state of the world, how evil people are... maintaining friendship...if you're lucky enough to have them. We as children, are forgotten about. Why should we be remembered? We don’t feel. We don’t feel like others do.

We’re dramatic, and foolish right? Lack of experience. Would I even make it to 20 without a traumatic experience, or death?

“So you believe you're disregarded?”

“No. I am loved Mr. Light. So much.” The girl smiled. But is that enough?

Couldn't be.

“What is this about? What is this, therapy? Can’t I just be done?” The girl asked

The Light was unsure. Was she ready to go back?

“You’re not ready.”

Time passed. The girl sat in silence just looking at Mr. light. Observing patiently, was she fearful? Was she waiting for the end to come? An anomaly of sorts? Or perhaps a miracle?

How much time passed?

One day?

Two? It was Irrelevant for time is not the same in here.

Beep. Beep ———————— Beep “Is my existence enough?” “If I am, why does it feel like I’m in the way?

Like everything would move the same without me—maybe even better. Like I’m present but, not needed. Seen, but not chosen. Like I exist in spaces that don’t belong to me, and no matter how I move, I’m still out of place.”

"How could you know what life will be like when you're gone?" Mr. light sounded disappointed in the girl.

“You sleep child.

Wouldn't you like to go back and ask life why you are so dysfunctional. You hold back. But I know what's in you. Just tell me what you feel. What you want to say. If this is the last time you can talk to anyone. What will you say?

The girl was not stupid. Why did the light was to help her? Was he just a good entity? Was she being blessed by a god? Was the light going to send her home?

Did she want to go home?

“I’m tired...”

A pause.

“Go on.”

“I’m just a girl. I’m just a person, forget I'm not the person I want to be. But life seems to not like me. |

Life seems to... resent me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“ Why else would this all happen? People die. Yet I dream still. Children, hurt. Yet I smile?"

“Is this what goes on in your head?”

“Is it okay for me to complain about... living uncomfortable. While others live in agony?

Is it just fine, for me to smile at a screen, and frown? We’re all just fake. So fake.

“You’re not fake. You’re good.”

“Is it enough to be good, if I can’t share? If I can’t heal the wounded? Now looking at myself, I’m dead.”

“You’re not dead. You’re sleeping”

“How long can I sleep on a flatline?”

“...Seconds”

Beep. Beep ———————— Beep “You want perfection so badly it’s starting to rot you.

You build rules no one else follows. You chase a version of yourself that doesn’t exist. And when you can’t reach it… you decide you’re nothing...”

“Are you ready to go back child?”

She was not. The world was to strong for her, she wanted to sleep.

“You’re not tired because life hates you. You’re tired because you’re trying to be everything at once.

You look at pain that isn’t yours and decide it makes yours smaller. Like suffering is a competition. Like only the worst pain deserves to be felt. It doesn’t work like that. Pain doesn’t ask for permission.

You’re not wrong for hurting just because someone else hurts more. You were never taught where you end.

So you keep reaching past yourself, trying to fix things that were never yours to carry. And when you can’t, you decide you’re the failure. Be smaller. Not less—just yours.

Your breath. Your choices. Your life. You don’t need to heal the world to justify staying in it. You just need to stop abandoning yourself while trying to save everything else.”

“Would you like to go back child. Think about it. You have a choice.”

“I have a choice?”

“Yes.”

“Then...

Send... me back.”

——— Beep. Beep. Beep.

Two seconds, and the girl had awaken. From what she couldn't explain.

"Welcome back Viv... your safe now."

"Am...I...alive?" The girl asked more hopeful than ever. She wasn't looking for anything else but the truth. She didn't have an expectation.

It's what your heartbeat says...

You. Are. Alive.