And then, surprisingly enough to Steven - the world continued to turn.
He didn’t know why that came as such a shock to him as it did - perhaps, he figured, because the last time he had had such a meltdown, it had felt like the earth had come to a screeching, suddenly jarring halt? He expected the rug pulled out from him, because Last Time, he had transformed into the horrible, monstrous manifestation of his pain, and then for months on end he had existed in a state of almost - nonexistence. He had had to come crawling back into the reality of the world he had lived in, had to fight for the right to stand on his own two feet -
Except that when he did crawl back, he was marked, scarred by the experience of his breakdown (literally and figuratively, and he didn’t even want to think about the literal scars, coursing up and down his back like a branded note to the world), and then - had to spend months studying and learning: how to re-mesh with the world he had fallen out of, as well.
(Of course, when he had mentioned this all to Dr. A, she had pointed out that, most likely, this was a thing that only he had noticed, that no one else had mentioned anything of the sort to him at all, and it was all just a figment of his imagination. But he had brushed her aside, because - well, of course no one was going to mention it to him! That would be rude, and - they wouldn’t do that, no matter how true it was or not.)
There was a clear delineation (to him, at least) between the time of Steven before his extremely public breakdown, and the time of Steven afterwards - who was the Steven in recovery and who went to therapy once a week, every week, and took medication for his broken brain.
And never shall the twain meet. There was no way for him to really go back, after all, no way for him to erase what had happened - despite how much he really, really wished he could.
stormborns
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
