Ilya Rozanov didn't know what depression was at the age of 10, but he knew it meant Mama couldn't do certain things with him, or for him, sometimes.
TW/CW: Talk about mental health struggles, depressive episodes, speculation surrounding the coping mechanisms of a child when faced with mental health crises from their (assumed) primary caregiver. This is based on personal experiences, so please forgive me if it tends to look a bit ooc. There may also be some timeline inaccuracies (like with tech and stuff).
Afternoon naps after school was something Ilya usually looked forward to. Mama would sit him and Alexei down while she reheated lunch as they would finish their homework. Afterwards, and before Alexei said he was too old to be participating, they'd crawl into Irina's marital bed, Ilya on her right side, Alexei on her left, and take a short nap before Gregori got home. Ilya loved it.
When Ilya was 10, he started to notice the small changes. Naps weren't just an hour or two long, but stretched over dinner time. He'd try to wake up Mama but she would just turn around as she continued to lay in bed. Alexei was constantly out with friends, probably because of Papa's yelling, and Papa himself started to work late. Ilya knew Irina was in the house, but he felt alone.
"Okey, Mama. I'll make us toast."
Toast was the easiest thing Ilya had learned to make. The nob must be on the middle setting, and he wasn't allowed to use a metal knife or fork to pull out the slices. Mama would be upset and get scared if Ilya accidently shocked himself.
Ilya has been making toast for dinner for nearly a month now. Alexei stays out until curfew given by Papa, and usually he smells like cigarettes and a cheap whiskey Ilya knows Alexei keeps behind the large encyclopedias he used to collect on his bookshelf. Ilya liked flipping through those.
Irina would sometimes get better. She would slug out of her room and knock on Alexei's door quietly, even if just to peak in and ask him if he's studying for a test the next day. Sometimes she'd just give a way smile and say goodnight if it's very late. For Ilya, she'd take a look at his hair, and the dishevelled state of the curls she gave him.
"Mama, Papa said have to keep hair neat."
"I know, I'll cut it tomorrow afternoon, after your practice."
Ilya didn't have afternoon practice tomorrow. Irina hasn't been up properly. She doesn't know what day it is. Ilya smiled and nodded and said goodnight.
The haircut never came. Alexei was still out partying with friends, or whatever he does that he never tells Ilya about, and Gregori's night shifts and paperwork was 'never ending' (his Papa's words).
A routine was established, Ilya would get home from school or hockey practice, he'd change into something comfortable, sit by the dinner table alone, and do his homework. Mama used to come greet him, but he doesn't expect her to anymore. He's almost 11, Sveta said he'd start having to learn how to cook. She called it a 'basic life skill'. After homework, Ilya tried a simple, few ingredients recipe from his grandma's cookbook (what's left of the smudged ink, cursive Cyrillic he could manage and yellowed pages). A simple sausage and pasta. Ilya wanted to use mince, but Mama hasn't been shopping lately and Papa only brings home basics. Ilya will have to make a list. Ilya's routine was capped off with a quick bath, brushing his teeth, and praying a simple prayer Mama taught him. Ilya oftentimes wonders if the church people miss Mama.
The simple dishes Ilya learns to make are increasing, sometimes an accident happens, a split liquid, or a knife that knocks his fingers, or too much is made. Alexei at least eats the leftovers, even if it's at 3AM when Ilya wakes up to go to the bathroom. Ilya hopes it can lift some of the responsibility off of Irina. Maybe then she'll have enough energy to cut his hair.
The first time Ilya sees Irina up and alert, is the week just before his 11th birthday. Alexei is home more, even encouraging Ilya to invite friends over to play games and have a small party for his birthday. Gregori even attended his last match, but he spoke more with Ilya's coach than with Ilya himself. The weather was getting warmer, and Mama was feeling better. She even cut his hair!
Ilya's birthday was celebrated with Sveta and Sasha. A new friend that also happened to be Ilya's coach's son. Sasha hates playing though, even if his dad makes him. Ilya has found Sasha crying in a bathroom stall after practice before. Maybe Sasha didn't like how sticky the protective padding got? Ilya didn't like it at first either, but got used to it. The small party had some ready-made pizzas that Ilya put on his grocery list, happy Irina was finally out and about again, he even managed some soda which he knew she wasn't fond of. When Alexei told Ilya to blow out his birthday candles on the small pizzas and to make a wish, Ilya didn't have a single thing to wish for. Mama was there, Papa came home earlier, Alexei stayed for a bit before going out with friends, and Ilya's own friends were happy to run around outside and play on Alexei's PlayStation. Ilya just had to make sure to start a new game and leave Alexei's alone. He doesnt want to lose progress. Ilya smiled at that word. Mama was making progress.
"Mama, what those pills that Mama drinks with tea?" Ilya mostly asked because they didn't look like the vitamin gummies Irina would get for him and Alexei in winter months, or like the pain medications that Alexei got for him when he accidently took an elbow to the face that chipped his tooth when fighting, a bit too intensely, over the TV remote.
"Mama gets tired sometimes," Irina started, eyes soft and a hand ruffling some of Ilya's hair, "these help Mama feel less tired and let's me get out of bed." Ilya only nodded in return before enjoying his eggs and toast before morning game. Sasha hated having to wake up early on Saturday's for games, but Ilya loved it. Mama said she'll go watch him.
Ilya knew that sometimes things were still rough. Irina would cry at seemingly random, Gregori would still yell, and Alexei would still disappear sometimes. Ilya would count when Irina's medicine was running low, and add it to the grocery list, just in case.
Things weren't always bad or always good, but now, Ilya could happily make himself lunch, take the responsibility off of Irina, and still ask Mama for an afternoon nap before Papa and Alexei got home.
