(a/n) Hey! This is just another Tommyinnit angst that will be written in his perspective if not told otherwise because I really wanted to write one. Good luck with this book >:). I have so much planned it's not okay. Anyways, constructive criticism is much appreciated. Please correct any typos in the writing if I have any, I want to make this an easy-to-read book that flows through the mind smoothly. I probably won't do big author notes and they will never have their own chapter. Thanks for reading!

TW: EATING DISORDERS, ANXIETY, SELF HARM, SCARS, BLOOD

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I watched in feigned shock as L'manburg was blown to smithereens. I knew this was going to happen, of course, but I made sure to really milk my reaction for the viewers. They are my everything. My viewers and supporters. That next to my primes, obviously. I wonder what they would think if they knew what I was like off-screen. I shook these thoughts from my head as I heard my friends screaming and being chaotic, to nobody's surprise. 

I wish I could say I was strongly participating in all the talk going on between my friends, but instead, I added my opinion here or there, staying mostly quiet. I know that Wilbur or Tubbo have probably noticed my lack of enthusiasm over conversing with others, so I quickly shifted over to discord on my other monitor and typed out a quick excuse. I think it went along the lines of being tired and staying up all last night with my mates. 

Ending my stream, I knew that I would be able to leave discord altogether because everybody else's streams were plot, and joining would ruin the 'possible animation moments', as Karl likes to say.

I quickly ushered myself to my backpack and checked to see if I had any work that was due, even though I knew I had at least five missing assignments and seven, give or take, due in the span of a week. I knew that I needed to pass my classes to continue being able to stream and spend so much time on YouTube according to the stupid rules put in place by my parents. Deciding that procrastination will get me nowhere, I set aside my grumbling stomach and rabbit hole of a mind to get some work done.

About thirty minutes had passed when my mum called me down for dinner. Panic seeped down through my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I decided it would be best if I went down to explain that I was doing homework and that was the reason I couldn't eat dinner, definitely not because if I eat I feel like a bloated whale and my mind tells me I would be better off dead than eating. I calmly walked downstairs, moving my dread filled fingers in a rhythmic motion to calm my ever persisting nerves. 

"Hey mum, I have quite a bit of homework I have to complete. I think I'm going to skip dinner tonight so I can get more work done." I said with a hopeful tone laced throughout my sentences.

"Thomas," my mum deadpanned at me, "You haven't been eating a lot recently and I think it's best you sit down with us for dinner."

Anxiety rushed down my spine, like a chill in a cold room. 

"Mum," I started, "I love that you're concerned for me, but I eat like a whale when you're not looking. I will be fine if I skip a meal."

"Let's compromise." I could tell she wasn't going to let me get away with this one easy. "You can either take a plate to your room to eat whilst you work, or you could eat later once you are finished with a sizable portion of your homework."

This caused relief to overpower the anxiety that was creeping up my forearms and neck, and I quickly accepted her offer to take my food to my room. After a quick warning about not being messy and a peck on the cheek, my mum sent me off to work. I took the plate and pushed it onto my desk before inspecting it. It was a pasta dish that looked quite good, sprinkled with...arugula? Basil? No matter. Thinking deeply, I decided that the two days I had spent fasting would do me no good if I ate this dish. Without giving it another thought, I took the dish and my fork, provided so kindly by my dad, and walked into the restroom, scraping most of the food into the toilet, leaving enough to smear the sauce around so that it looked like I ate the food. 

Rushing back to my bedroom as to not be spotted, I sat the plate down and realized I was so washed up in the guilt of dumping my mum's hard work into the toilet, to be wasted. I forgot to flush it down. I ran, no, sprinted to the restroom only to cut off my dad who was making his way to the very same restroom with my trashed food. He yelled something at me as I shut the door. 

I played it off with a quick, "Sorry dad! Gamer piss!"

"You're not even gaming!" he argued back.

Whoops. I got in and waited a second before flushing it down. I washed my hands for extra long as I watched the red sauce swirl around for a bit. It all got sucked down with one final swirl. I let out a sigh of relief, wondering what would have become of me if my dad found the food. 

Walking out of the restroom and back to my bedroom, I realized I still had loads of work to do and the time frame I had was ticking down. Panic filled my every bone and I then realized what was happening; I was having a panic attack over my homework. How stupid. What kind of idiot starts shaking and breathing heavily in a panic-filled way over homework. This certainly wasn't a new feeling, that panic attack that is. Being first diagnosed with a bad case of anxiety about a year ago and experiencing the symptoms for over six months before that, I had grown accustomed to my anxiety and knew how to calm myself. But what was new was the horrible, degrading thoughts that prohibited the methods from working. 

I was at a loss as to what I should do, so in a moment of weakness, I called the one person that I knew has been dealing with anxiety for years longer than me, and had been the person that first told me to talk to my parents about my symptoms about a year ago. 

Technoblade. 

I ringed him on discord to no avail. He was offline and if I knew him, which I did, he wouldn't get on. He probably doesn't want to talk to you because you're annoying. You stopped talking to him about your anxiety after being prescribed and it should stay that way. You're so fat and annoying. Imagine people not subscribing because the creator is fat. Techno obviously hates you because of your size and your stupid mental illness. Cut yourself and then you will feel better. You need to pay for your actions. You need to do something. Cut. Yourself. Now.

I tried to hard to push the thoughts from my mind, hoping to find some sort of breath of fresh air to keep myself from doing something I would regret. Instead of listening to logical thought of my brain, it was overpowered by the anxiety-ridden, honest side.

I had to pay for my actions. 

I ran around my room in a rushed sprint. I grabbed the razor blade and a plastic bag to catch the blood. I rolled up my hoodie sleeve to be greeted with four inch-long horizontal cuts on my left arm going from my wrist and climbing up to below the underside of my elbow. Lastly, I took a rag positioned on my computer that I had previously been using to dust it. Placing the bag on my shaking legs, I took the blade and sliced my left arm, not wanting to have my right arm itch or ache.

Laughing to myself, I thought about the irony of cutting myself with a blade and having Technoblade not return my call when I needed it most. That was so funny to me. I hissed as the cool metal came in contact with my skin. Pressing down, I watched as the blood dribbled down my arm and into the bag I oh so conveniently placed underneath me. I cut my arm twice before taking the rag and wiping off the excess blood and applying slight pressure. 

I breathed in relief. My panic attack had begun to pass, now that I had given in to the voice. 

The voice. What was that voice? Realization began to settle in that my methods of cooling my anxiety had not worked. To add to my confusion of the useless methods, I had also listened to the voice when it told me to self harm. It felt...oddly relieving. Maybe I should listen to this voice more often, it was right this time, so it must be right again. 

I groaned audibly as I realized that I still had loads of work to do and now I had to clean up from my actions. 

Good luck to me.