Justin Mark Campbell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likefatherlikeson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-09-05 01:43 am
likefatherlikeson) wrote in muserevival2014-09-05 01:43 am
Entry tags:
Word of the Day 096.
Disorder
n. 1. lack of order or regular arrangement; confusion. 2. an irregularity. 3. breach of order; disorderly conduct; public disturbance. 4. a disturbance in physical or mental health or functions; malady or dysfunction.
Justin looked over the pile of leaflets and printouts sitting on his lap, wondering why the hell he woke up for this. He should have just left them sitting on the little portable table by his bed and ignored them the way he was trying to ignore the rest of the world. When he woke up a little while ago, they had caught his eye and now he couldn't unsee. As much as you wanted to shut just about everything out to try to regain the energy to face living again, it was never going to help having BIPOLAR DISORDER staring back at you from a bunch of fact sheets and medical leaflets.
Someone's heart was probably in the right place. At some point, he would need to begin to wade through this information, but this was déjà vu. He had been here before. It had been two steps forward and ten back. Held loosely between his fingers on the hand that felt like it had about twelve IV lines in it was even a leaflet entitled So, You Hate Your Bipolar Meds? Was it some kind of joke? It felt like a taunting question like he should somehow be jumping for joy over all over facets of this pain in the ass thing he was trying to figure out how to live with. There was another telling him to 'Open up when you're feeling down' with a helpline and the next few Spotting the Signs of Depression, So, Someone You Love Is Mentally Ill, and It's Ok Not To Be Ok.
He wasn't ready for this yet. In his haste to get the papers back on the table, he dropped them and they scattered all over the floor. There was a small moment where he tried to tell himself not to get upset, but then he was swearing, getting frustrated with himself and the urge to want to tears tubes and needles out of himself was almost too much to fight. Instead, he just turned onto his side a little in the hospital bed away from the mess he had left. Out of sight, out of mind, and anything he could get out of his mind even just briefly without losing his shit was baby steps of success.
His new iPhone was sitting there which had been mostly untouched. This was his third phone since his dad bought him the first one soon after he got to New York. Protecting a cell phone wasn't exactly high on his priority list when his mind was busy losing itself on him. He picked it up and pressed the button to bring up the lock screen. The wallpaper was a selfie of him and Will that was taken a couple of months back when things were going well... before everything exploded and went to shit. He bit down hard on his lip, just looking at the photo for a long time.
He wanted to text Will. He wanted to call him, to apologise, beg for him not to hate him. But his own self-loathing always won out over everything else right now. Instead, he was just getting himself upset again and he shut the screen into darkness again. Throwing it across the room in frustration would be pointless because it wasn't really the cell phone or the photo on the phone that was the problem here. The problem was that he was mentally ill and if he wanted to keep going without always hurting everyone he cared about, he needed to deal with this. He didn't want to scare them or hurt them, he just wanted everything to be easier for them. And even if it was selfish, he wanted everything to be easier for him too... even just a little bit.
Sniffling, he tucked the phone in against his chest, and even if it was a bit pathetic, he came to be cuddling it. Will wasn't there, and maybe after all this, after the absolutely epic ways Justin managed to fuck up this time when he was badly sick, Will wouldn't ever be there again. He wished like fucking hell he could be normal, and that he wasn't sick. Maybe then he would have a fighting chance to be something Will could be proud to date and not just constantly terrified or freaked out. He just wanted to go to sleep again. If he kept doing that, there would have to be eventually a time when he woke up that he would start to feel better, right? And if not, then maybe he could just keep sleeping through the mess in his head, because facing it was going to take a bit more time yet.
Justin Campbell
Original Character
n. 1. lack of order or regular arrangement; confusion. 2. an irregularity. 3. breach of order; disorderly conduct; public disturbance. 4. a disturbance in physical or mental health or functions; malady or dysfunction.
Justin looked over the pile of leaflets and printouts sitting on his lap, wondering why the hell he woke up for this. He should have just left them sitting on the little portable table by his bed and ignored them the way he was trying to ignore the rest of the world. When he woke up a little while ago, they had caught his eye and now he couldn't unsee. As much as you wanted to shut just about everything out to try to regain the energy to face living again, it was never going to help having BIPOLAR DISORDER staring back at you from a bunch of fact sheets and medical leaflets.
Someone's heart was probably in the right place. At some point, he would need to begin to wade through this information, but this was déjà vu. He had been here before. It had been two steps forward and ten back. Held loosely between his fingers on the hand that felt like it had about twelve IV lines in it was even a leaflet entitled So, You Hate Your Bipolar Meds? Was it some kind of joke? It felt like a taunting question like he should somehow be jumping for joy over all over facets of this pain in the ass thing he was trying to figure out how to live with. There was another telling him to 'Open up when you're feeling down' with a helpline and the next few Spotting the Signs of Depression, So, Someone You Love Is Mentally Ill, and It's Ok Not To Be Ok.
He wasn't ready for this yet. In his haste to get the papers back on the table, he dropped them and they scattered all over the floor. There was a small moment where he tried to tell himself not to get upset, but then he was swearing, getting frustrated with himself and the urge to want to tears tubes and needles out of himself was almost too much to fight. Instead, he just turned onto his side a little in the hospital bed away from the mess he had left. Out of sight, out of mind, and anything he could get out of his mind even just briefly without losing his shit was baby steps of success.
His new iPhone was sitting there which had been mostly untouched. This was his third phone since his dad bought him the first one soon after he got to New York. Protecting a cell phone wasn't exactly high on his priority list when his mind was busy losing itself on him. He picked it up and pressed the button to bring up the lock screen. The wallpaper was a selfie of him and Will that was taken a couple of months back when things were going well... before everything exploded and went to shit. He bit down hard on his lip, just looking at the photo for a long time.
He wanted to text Will. He wanted to call him, to apologise, beg for him not to hate him. But his own self-loathing always won out over everything else right now. Instead, he was just getting himself upset again and he shut the screen into darkness again. Throwing it across the room in frustration would be pointless because it wasn't really the cell phone or the photo on the phone that was the problem here. The problem was that he was mentally ill and if he wanted to keep going without always hurting everyone he cared about, he needed to deal with this. He didn't want to scare them or hurt them, he just wanted everything to be easier for them. And even if it was selfish, he wanted everything to be easier for him too... even just a little bit.
Sniffling, he tucked the phone in against his chest, and even if it was a bit pathetic, he came to be cuddling it. Will wasn't there, and maybe after all this, after the absolutely epic ways Justin managed to fuck up this time when he was badly sick, Will wouldn't ever be there again. He wished like fucking hell he could be normal, and that he wasn't sick. Maybe then he would have a fighting chance to be something Will could be proud to date and not just constantly terrified or freaked out. He just wanted to go to sleep again. If he kept doing that, there would have to be eventually a time when he woke up that he would start to feel better, right? And if not, then maybe he could just keep sleeping through the mess in his head, because facing it was going to take a bit more time yet.
Original Character