Up The Mountain

Be Brave

"I truly believe this could help you out. Keep it in mind, alright?" The dark-skinned woman spoke, putting away her clipboard.

He'd only been able to nod, gathering his belongings. She watched him go, only stopping him right before the door closed.

"See you next week?"

The man nodded once more, leaving behind the comfortable office to head back home.

And that was where he currently sat. Staring at the semi-blank notebook, as if trying to will words to materialise from his brain straight onto the page. Alas, as expected, no fae magic had made itself apparent to help him out.

It'd been two hours since he came back from the appointment, and yet... He'd done nothing. Nothing except sit here, and stare at this notebook. The longer he stared, the more thoughts began to pile up, and the more he began to resent sitting still when there were things to be done- What had yet to be complete, he didn't know, but he had to do something-

'And this is exactly why I need to do this.' He gave a quiet sigh. When he became aware that his hand began to nest itself in his thick hair while he'd been... thinking... he knew that he had a long way to go. Of course, he was proud of the fact he'd been able to break through his fervour- Just last year, once he started spiralling, the best he could do was to sit there, trapped in his own mind, while that horrible feeling seemed to seep into every inch of him.

His heart was pounding even now, but he could probably ignore it- Along with the fact that the reason why most of the page in front of him was semi-empty was the pencil in his visibly quaky hands. 

He was trying. You couldn't blame him for at least trying.

And yet... He sat quietly in this lonely, little room. With nothing but the few plants scattered around, their previously healthy green leaves now looking barely anything less than forlorn. Drooping leaves, unhealthily dark-green leaves and stems- Had he truly put so little work into what used to be his dearly beloved hobby?

He abandoned the notebook, a new sense of want driving him to head to his tiny kitchenette, fill up the largest bowl he could find with room-temperature tap water and begin pouring.

He knew he was avoiding having to face those thoughts by tending to his Monstera Deliciosa, better known as the Swiss Cheese Plant, and did you know they can-

And there he goes again. Avoiding talking about his feelings, about finally being able to move on, by rambling about plants. 

No wonder his friends hated him.

He blinked. Once, twice, taking account of the entire situation, before he realised it- He'd finally been given something to work with.

The lightly-dead plant was quickly forgotten about; After all, Darius had some Cognitive Distortion to label and correct. It seemed his progress wasn't for nought after all.