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choke yourself to sleep

Summary:

Atsumu's anxiety worsens, he copes with it in unusual ways.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Atsumu wishes there were hands wrapped around his neck. He thinks about this often, and not in the fun, sexy way. He wants fingers tightening around his throat because at least then there would be a reason for his shortness of breath. His anxiety fills his stomach up with dread, his chest tightens, and his breath feels caught in his throat. It already feels like he is being choked by invisible hands.

So he chokes himself. He wraps his hands around his throat and squeezes because at least then it’s real. At least then his mind isn’t playing tricks on him and there is reason for his gasps and the tears and the ache in his chest. It’s not like he hurts himself, he never lets it get that far, but sometimes it’s hard for him to swallow and his eyes look red for days and- okay, maybe he is hurting himself a little.

But it helps for a while, without it the anxiety can drag out for hours, all day even, but when he brings his hand up to his neck and squeezes it eases the anxiety and he can move on with his day.

He thinks sometimes about just going to the doctors. His team is big on advocating for mental health. Bokuto sees a therapist and takes meds for his bipolar depression and Hinata for his ADHD, even Suna has told him that he sees a therapist to help him cope with his depression and Suna is a man's man. Atsumu knows there are resources out there for him, and there are people he can go to to ask for help.

But Atsumu is a stubborn, stubborn man. Asking for help has never come easily to him. When he was younger, he never had to ask for help because Osamu was always there to read his mind and just help him without either of them saying a word. It’s only as he got older did his reluctance to ask for anything become clear. In high school he refused to ask for help on homework, and his grades got so bad that his mom forced him to find a tutor. And when he got sick, he refused to ask his nurse mom for anything, not until he passed out on the gym floor.

So that says a lot about the person he is today. His anxiety had always been present, but as he started getting older it seemed as if there were more and more things to worry about. The Black Jackals heavily rely on him to be the best setter possible. This means extra practice, more time in the gym, watching what he eats, being aware of his relationship with his team on and off the court, even watching his image.

He has anxieties outside of volleyball too. His family plays a big part in this. His mother lives all alone and over works herself now that her boys are out of the house. He worries about her being lonely now that they don’t all watch films together, he worries about how much she eats now that Osamu doesn’t cook for her, he worries about if the house is clean now that she has no one to clean it for. Then he worries that he hasn’t called her enough. He imagines scenarios where she gets in a car accident or gets cancer and is on her deathbed and Atsumu is filled with regret because he didn’t call her enough.

He worries about Osamu too. His whole life he and his brother were joined at the hip, and now they are hundreds of miles apart. He worries about him running his whole business on his own and he worries that his brother doesn’t have enough money to run his business. He worries that Osamu is lonely, too. His boyfriend, Suna, also plays professional volleyball and is busy or traveling often and Atsumu hasn’t been able to visit him as often as he would like, especially since he moved eight hours away to Tokyo to open another restaurant.

Then he worries about people worrying about him. He thinks that other people worrying about him is a waste of time and energy. Atsumu can take care of himself (until he can’t, and he is choking, and crying, and choking), and the worries of others are useless.

Somehow, these anxieties have been getting worse over the last couple months. It is mostly attributed to the end of the season, with nothing else to consume his mind, he finds himself over thinking every little thing. Even just stepping out of his room into the common area of the Black Jackal share house brings him more anxiety than usual. He has to mentally prepare himself to leave, he has to think through every scenario (what if Bokuto and Hinata are hanging out in the living room? What will he say to them? What if they invite him to join him? What if Sasuka is making something in the kitchen? What if Atsumu takes up too much space while trying to make ramen? He would rather starve, but if he doesn’t eat anything then he could hurt the team, bring them down, become weak.)

The knot in his throat forms, he brings both of his hands to his throat and squeezes while sliding down the back of his apartment door. The breath stops abruptly and for a couple of seconds, there is nothing in his head. For a blissful twenty or so seconds he is nothing, until he is something again as he feels his eyes start to burn and a cough forms in his chest. He relaxes his hands and coughs, coughs, coughs.

But then he can breathe. He breathes shallowly, and when he catches his breath, deeper until he feels better than before, better enough to wipe his eyes and open his door to make some lunch.

He worried for no reason, no one was even in the kitchen or day hall. He feels stupid for worrying.

Everything comes to a head when the season starts again. Training gets more rigorous and he is spending more time on the courts. Competitions start up and expectations grow and Atsumu vomits in the bathroom before their first game of the season against Tachibana Red Falcons. He stopped breathing for too long and coughed so much that he triggered his gag reflex. He doesn’t even want to think about how bloodshot his eyes probably look. Then he thinks about how Aran is probably going to see that Atsumu is off his game, then he is going to tell his other high school senpais and then Osamu is going to know and everyone is going to be worried about him. The hands are at his throat again, and for the first time ever he thinks that maybe it’s going too far, maybe he should get help.

He is floating during the whole game. His cheeks feel flushed and his head and eyes hurt from the pressure in his head. They lose. Atsumu can feel the disappointment from his team, and he can feel their stares on the back of his neck. For a second, he can’t separate disdain from worry. He leaves the gym just after shaking hands. He misses the bus back to Osaka.

When he finally returns to the gym to get his things, Bokuto is waiting in the gym with his boyfriend Akaashi. Atsumu blinks at them, then promptly turns to make his way to the locker room. Thankfully, they don’t follow him. He wonders if Bokuto is calling the team to tell them he is fine, then he wonders if Bokuto resents him for cutting into his time with his boyfriend. Akaashi and Bokuto do not get to spend a lot of time together, so when they find themselves in the same city they always do what they can to spend as much time together as possible.

Atsumu steps in the small showers, he has sweat, tears, and dirt built up on him and he feels disgusting. The warm water makes him feel refreshed but dread is heavy on his shoulders. He tries to turn off his brain, but his anxiety goes in circles in his head (you’re so dramatic, the whole team is worried, Bokuto stayed, he just wants to spend time with his boyfriend, but you ruin everything. Aran probably told all your old team members, they all think you’re pathetic, Osamu surely knows by now, what would he think? He will leave his business to come take care of you, you know it. You’re a burden, you should jus-). Atsumu shuts the showers off and changes into the sweatpants and sweatshirt he packed. He repacks his duffle as slowly as possible, maybe Bokuto will just be satisfied knowing that Atsumu isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere and he will leave him alone.

Bokuto is still in the gym. He is leaning against Akaashi’s shoulder clenching and unclenching his hand in Akaashi’s in what Atsumu recognizes is his own anxiety. He didn’t notice it before, but his eyes are bloodshot too and it makes Atsumu feel sick with guilt.

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I’m sorry about…” He doesn’t really know what he is sorry about, is he sorry about fucking up the game? Is he sorry about running off? Is he sorry for being so fucking stubborn and not ever asking for help until it’s too late?

Bokuto gasps, “What happened to your neck? Did you get into a fight?”

Atsumu furrows his eyebrows in confusion. He didn’t think to look in the mirror earlier, but now that he thinks about it his throat is more tender than usual and the pounding in his head, the throbbing of his eyes… He choked himself harder than he ever has before in the bathroom earlier and it’s not like he went easy on himself in the hours after.

He shakes his head and finds that even that makes him wince.

“Why don’t we drive back to the share house?” Akaashi says, “Atsumu can get comfortable in his own bed, and we can talk there.”

Atsumu shakes his head quickly, the anxiety already spiking. Most of the team lives in the share house, they will see him and ask questions and worry and be disappointed about the game and he will feel like a burden.

Akaashi is quick to notice his stress and says, “We can go to my place, then, it’s closer anyways.”

He feels a little bit of relief at that, he can see why Bokuto gets along with Akaashi so well. Akaashi seems to read people so easily and is so casual about helping them. Bokuto smiles softly at his boyfriend before turning his attention to Atsumu, pulling him into a hug then leading him out to Akaashi’s car.

The ride to Akaashi’s place is silent. Bokuto is fiddling with Akaashi’s fingers in the front seat of the car, and Atsumu is in the back looking out the window deep in thought. The ever-present anxiety takes over his brain, thoughts flit around and he can’t really catch one long enough to ruminate. Even if he decides to open up to the couple, to Bokuto, how can he get his thoughts together long enough to even ask for help?

Before he knows it, he is in the living room of Akaashi’s small apartment. Akaashi strides out of the living room into the small kitchenette to boil some water for tea, and Bokuto sits awkwardly beside Atsumu on the couch.

Bokuto picks at the ends of his fingers and Atsumu fidgets in the silence. Bokuto has never been known for silence, making it all the more uncomfortable and awkward.

“So, like, are you okay?” Bokuto says finally.

Atsumu laughs a little bit, because clearly he is not okay. He chokes himself until he pukes and runs from his problems and is so far from the easy going kid he used to be.

“Maybe that was a stupid question,” Bokuto mumbles to himself, shuffling in his seat. “Um, what’s wrong?”

He lets his head fall onto the back of the couch and lets out a long breath, he can’t back out from any of this now. He has the feeling that Bokuto won’t let him out of his sight until he understands what's going on.

“I get… anxious,” Atsumu says finally. He flushes because he sounds fucking stupid. He tortures himself because he gets a little nervous? It’s almost laughable but it’s true.

Bokuto squints at him and is about to open his mouth to ask another question when Akaashi comes into the room with tea, handing one cup to each of them before sitting on the couch next to Bokuto.

Atsumu brings the mug up to his face and lets the heat of the steam rise around his cheeks. He takes a big breath in and he finds that just holding the tea is relaxing. Bokuto does the same thing and they sit in silence for a bit before Bokuto says, “So… you’re anxious?”

Atsumu nods, “I worry a lot, is all, and when I get all jittery and weird about it I find that…” he pauses and curses under his breath a little, “this sounds so fucking stupid… but I choke myself.”

Akasshi shuffles in his seat a little uncomfortably and Bokuto is obviously trying not to look horrified, and not succeeding, “you choke yourself when you are anxious?”

Atsumu nods.

“So thats why your neck is so…” Bokuto waves at Atsumu's red neck, the beginning of bruises about to form.

Atsumu nods.

“And… the game today? You were anxious?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know… today was weird.”

He doesn’t really want to tell Bokuto about choking himself too hard and puking and the floaty feeling he felt throughout the game but he does anyway. He has already decided that this is it, that he is going to get help, whether he wants to or not.

Notes:

maybe i will add onto this at a later date. maybe not.

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