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)
muserevival2016-11-30 10:37 pm
likefatherlikeson) wrote in muserevival2016-11-30 10:37 pm
Entry tags:
134.2. Quote
"I prefer physical exhaustion over mental fatigue any day." - Clotilde Hesme
Solitude was sometimes as vital as air. Justin had lost track of how long he had been sitting there on the small stretch of sand, listening to the water lap against the shore. His grandparents had this portion of sand all to themselves on the edge of Sydney Harbour. Luckily, the water wasn't rough enough today that he didn't have anyone wanting to try to get in his way of needing some time alone for a breather.
Justin knew he was a basketcase, but he also knew he wasn't the only person in the world who sometimes just needed a time out from everything. Sensory overload meant everything was too loud, too bright, too hot, too cold... too much. It was like running the gauntlet convincing everyone he should be alone, and to actually let him out the door. Promising that he wouldn't go too far did the trick.
At first, he didn't even let himself think. He just sat down on sand and stared blankly at the surface of the water, taking in the many different shades of blue it boasted. Every now and then, it would ripple at little mo re enthusiastically when a boat zoomed by far in the distance. He let his fingers run through the warm grains, his finger tips every now and then sweeping past a jagged edge of a shell. He had already kicked his shoes off and buried his feet down into the sand. A lot of people had a love/hate relationship with the beach. Enjoyed the beauty of it, hated sand getting their arse crack. Justin didn't care where he got sand. There was something tactile about it that managed to pull his mood right back into a place he could cope with.
Soon, he blinked and his gaze was torn from the water to watch a seagull that landed on a rock a stone's throw away. It reminded him that he wasn't in some sort of trance here. He tugged the collar of his t-shirt away from his body and looked down at his chest. His face scrunched up with a wince when the bruised and burned skin stared back at him. It was the evidence that the effects of a mental illness could be just as physical as psychological.
Reality trickled back to him, and he started to feel the heat again. The clouds were building in the far distance over the horizon, warning of the storm Justin's granddad had told him was on the way. First sign of thunder, he planned on heading back inside. Watching a storm or getting caught in the rain wasn't going to invite the sorts of emotions he wanted to get locked in right now.
The fatigue was undeniable. He could sleep for days on end, and it didn't abate. Though, it was something he was used to these days. Used to just didn't mean it was easier to deal with. It was that feeling like, no matter what he had to try to face, he would never have enough energy for it. It wasn't feeling sleepy, and it wasn't feeling being unable to keep your eyes open. It came from somewhere not just deep in your head, but in your heart, in your soul, right down through ever fibre of you. No coffee, no energy drinks, no cold showers had the ability to give a successful boost.
Something had shifted and changed with these latest turn of events in his life. He wasn't any closer to figuring out how he was going to progress through whatever life through at him next. All he knew was that he was different now. If he got to a point where he was ready to go back to New York, he knew there was no way things were just going to go back to how they were. He was scared to think about whether that was ultimately a terrifying thing, or if perhaps it could be the start of the next part of his life that he wasn't sure he had the energy to face.
Justin Campbell
Original Character
Solitude was sometimes as vital as air. Justin had lost track of how long he had been sitting there on the small stretch of sand, listening to the water lap against the shore. His grandparents had this portion of sand all to themselves on the edge of Sydney Harbour. Luckily, the water wasn't rough enough today that he didn't have anyone wanting to try to get in his way of needing some time alone for a breather.
Justin knew he was a basketcase, but he also knew he wasn't the only person in the world who sometimes just needed a time out from everything. Sensory overload meant everything was too loud, too bright, too hot, too cold... too much. It was like running the gauntlet convincing everyone he should be alone, and to actually let him out the door. Promising that he wouldn't go too far did the trick.
At first, he didn't even let himself think. He just sat down on sand and stared blankly at the surface of the water, taking in the many different shades of blue it boasted. Every now and then, it would ripple at little mo re enthusiastically when a boat zoomed by far in the distance. He let his fingers run through the warm grains, his finger tips every now and then sweeping past a jagged edge of a shell. He had already kicked his shoes off and buried his feet down into the sand. A lot of people had a love/hate relationship with the beach. Enjoyed the beauty of it, hated sand getting their arse crack. Justin didn't care where he got sand. There was something tactile about it that managed to pull his mood right back into a place he could cope with.
Soon, he blinked and his gaze was torn from the water to watch a seagull that landed on a rock a stone's throw away. It reminded him that he wasn't in some sort of trance here. He tugged the collar of his t-shirt away from his body and looked down at his chest. His face scrunched up with a wince when the bruised and burned skin stared back at him. It was the evidence that the effects of a mental illness could be just as physical as psychological.
Reality trickled back to him, and he started to feel the heat again. The clouds were building in the far distance over the horizon, warning of the storm Justin's granddad had told him was on the way. First sign of thunder, he planned on heading back inside. Watching a storm or getting caught in the rain wasn't going to invite the sorts of emotions he wanted to get locked in right now.
The fatigue was undeniable. He could sleep for days on end, and it didn't abate. Though, it was something he was used to these days. Used to just didn't mean it was easier to deal with. It was that feeling like, no matter what he had to try to face, he would never have enough energy for it. It wasn't feeling sleepy, and it wasn't feeling being unable to keep your eyes open. It came from somewhere not just deep in your head, but in your heart, in your soul, right down through ever fibre of you. No coffee, no energy drinks, no cold showers had the ability to give a successful boost.
Something had shifted and changed with these latest turn of events in his life. He wasn't any closer to figuring out how he was going to progress through whatever life through at him next. All he knew was that he was different now. If he got to a point where he was ready to go back to New York, he knew there was no way things were just going to go back to how they were. He was scared to think about whether that was ultimately a terrifying thing, or if perhaps it could be the start of the next part of his life that he wasn't sure he had the energy to face.
Original Character