Liam Kristopher Morgan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wannabesurgeon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2016-09-23 09:15 pm
wannabesurgeon) wrote in muserevival2016-09-23 09:15 pm
Entry tags:
127.2. Quote
"I have learned that there is more power in a good strong hug than in a thousand meaningful words." - Ann Hood
Depression could be blinding. Not physically. It didn't cause blindness, but it could blinker you to what you saw, and how you saw it. It incapacitated your mind in such a way, you only had the ability to see a narrow field, and it felt like being able to see normally again was a long way off through a very dark tunnel. It wasn't that you didn't want to see normally, it was that you couldn't. That was the part many people couldn't understand. It could still be a stigma. If you weren't getting better, then you weren't trying hard enough. You weren't eating the miracle superfoods, you weren't visiting the "correct" websites, you weren't getting enough therapy, you were only looking for answers in the bottom of a pill bottle.
People were always quick to tell you what you weren't doing properly. In their rush to do that, they forgot to try to understand that you were already doing the best you could. It just didn't live up to their of "properly". There was too much of that in this world. Too much of other people trying to dictate others how they should live their life. In that, they also failed to understand that sometimes, for some people, trying to manage to just live life could be the hardest battle of all.
Liam had a throbbing headache when he stepped out of the cab and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He squinted in the light and had to fight the urge to put his hands over his ears. It was so loud. Louder than he remembered. He hoped it could be a bit more peaceful, but he knew it was deluded to think finding peace was that simple. There were sirens in the distance and the nearby blast of a car horn. He stood on the sidewalk and soon, the ambulance sped by with the sirens screaming and lights flashing. The sirens here were so obnoxious; loud, piercing. That was the whole point. It was just hard not to think about the fact he had recently been in the back of one. Just not here.
For a few minutes, he just stood there, feeling lost. He didn't know if this was what he should be doing, but it was all he had. He backed away from the curb, not really trusting himself not to jump in front of a bus. His eyes were locked on whirring wheels of traffic as it passed, and he had to work to tear his gaze away. He looked left, and then right, making sure he had gotten off at the right junction. It was the start of autumn, and the trees were all turning those beautiful colours, but Liam was only seeing the city is different hues of shadows and greys.
It had a hint of a chill in the air to match the season, but it wasn't freezing. Still, he felt cold. He was always cold right now. He had on a thick jacket and pulled it more tightly around himself as he walked and zipped it up, pulling the hood over his head. He even had the luxury of a Burberry scarf that he could hide behind too. It didn't feel like he had anything to hide from here, but you never knew. As he walked, he was purposefully stepping aside so no passers-by could touch him. At one point, he crossed to the other side of the street where it was a little quieter.
Once there, his Doc Martens created echoing footsteps on the cobblestones. The sound scared him more than he expected, and he couldn't be sure the echo wasn't someone following him. It was dusk, getting darker now the seasons had changed. His head whipped around and he scanned the area behind him, breaths coming out quickly in short pants. He didn't wait. He held tighter onto the strap of his bag and took off, running the rest of the few blocks to his destination. It was probably a stark contrast to the rest of the folk meandering along the footpath and enjoying the clear evening.
London. Home...
He got to the place and ran up the stairs. Without realising he was doing it, he was stabbing his thumb frantically against the doorbell, hoping someone was home. He should have called in advance. Why hadn't he thought to do that? It were those blinkers again. He couldn't see what was at the end of the dark tunnel. Even if his mind was so full of thoughts, they were a mess. He knew he wasn't dealing well. He just got sick of justifying that over and over again.
Soon, a tall blonde woman with wavy curls to her shoulder opened then door, looking panicked from the urgency of the repeated ringing of the doorbell. "L-Liam? Baby, what are you doing here?" she gasped, reaching for him gently.
"Mum," was all Liam could sob when he burst into tears and threw his arms around her. He was clinging to her, crying in against her shoulder and he had a tight grip on a handful of her silky blouse. He was home, and he didn't know if he ever wanted to leave again.
Liam Morgan || Original Character
Depression could be blinding. Not physically. It didn't cause blindness, but it could blinker you to what you saw, and how you saw it. It incapacitated your mind in such a way, you only had the ability to see a narrow field, and it felt like being able to see normally again was a long way off through a very dark tunnel. It wasn't that you didn't want to see normally, it was that you couldn't. That was the part many people couldn't understand. It could still be a stigma. If you weren't getting better, then you weren't trying hard enough. You weren't eating the miracle superfoods, you weren't visiting the "correct" websites, you weren't getting enough therapy, you were only looking for answers in the bottom of a pill bottle.
People were always quick to tell you what you weren't doing properly. In their rush to do that, they forgot to try to understand that you were already doing the best you could. It just didn't live up to their of "properly". There was too much of that in this world. Too much of other people trying to dictate others how they should live their life. In that, they also failed to understand that sometimes, for some people, trying to manage to just live life could be the hardest battle of all.
Liam had a throbbing headache when he stepped out of the cab and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He squinted in the light and had to fight the urge to put his hands over his ears. It was so loud. Louder than he remembered. He hoped it could be a bit more peaceful, but he knew it was deluded to think finding peace was that simple. There were sirens in the distance and the nearby blast of a car horn. He stood on the sidewalk and soon, the ambulance sped by with the sirens screaming and lights flashing. The sirens here were so obnoxious; loud, piercing. That was the whole point. It was just hard not to think about the fact he had recently been in the back of one. Just not here.
For a few minutes, he just stood there, feeling lost. He didn't know if this was what he should be doing, but it was all he had. He backed away from the curb, not really trusting himself not to jump in front of a bus. His eyes were locked on whirring wheels of traffic as it passed, and he had to work to tear his gaze away. He looked left, and then right, making sure he had gotten off at the right junction. It was the start of autumn, and the trees were all turning those beautiful colours, but Liam was only seeing the city is different hues of shadows and greys.
It had a hint of a chill in the air to match the season, but it wasn't freezing. Still, he felt cold. He was always cold right now. He had on a thick jacket and pulled it more tightly around himself as he walked and zipped it up, pulling the hood over his head. He even had the luxury of a Burberry scarf that he could hide behind too. It didn't feel like he had anything to hide from here, but you never knew. As he walked, he was purposefully stepping aside so no passers-by could touch him. At one point, he crossed to the other side of the street where it was a little quieter.
Once there, his Doc Martens created echoing footsteps on the cobblestones. The sound scared him more than he expected, and he couldn't be sure the echo wasn't someone following him. It was dusk, getting darker now the seasons had changed. His head whipped around and he scanned the area behind him, breaths coming out quickly in short pants. He didn't wait. He held tighter onto the strap of his bag and took off, running the rest of the few blocks to his destination. It was probably a stark contrast to the rest of the folk meandering along the footpath and enjoying the clear evening.
London. Home...
He got to the place and ran up the stairs. Without realising he was doing it, he was stabbing his thumb frantically against the doorbell, hoping someone was home. He should have called in advance. Why hadn't he thought to do that? It were those blinkers again. He couldn't see what was at the end of the dark tunnel. Even if his mind was so full of thoughts, they were a mess. He knew he wasn't dealing well. He just got sick of justifying that over and over again.
Soon, a tall blonde woman with wavy curls to her shoulder opened then door, looking panicked from the urgency of the repeated ringing of the doorbell. "L-Liam? Baby, what are you doing here?" she gasped, reaching for him gently.
"Mum," was all Liam could sob when he burst into tears and threw his arms around her. He was clinging to her, crying in against her shoulder and he had a tight grip on a handful of her silky blouse. He was home, and he didn't know if he ever wanted to leave again.
Liam Morgan || Original Character