Newcomers

R&R

Week 1:

In the beginning, staying at home was easy. The days went by quickly, he felt motivated to do things, and he started forming a little routine for himself. So all was good. Except his hair, but no one was gonna see that. Over monday and tuesday, he used a youtube tutorial to learn how to throw it in a bun. A very messy bun.

“I look like I belong at a starbucks.” He muttered to himself. It was better than having hair down his neck all the time though.

He documented every time he went to bed every night. It wasn’t hard, he really just went to bed around twelve, usually a little after. It was pretty easy at first, knowing how much better he felt in the morning really helped.

He was sure that the rest of his medical leave would go smoothly after that.

Week 2:

He was wrong.

Well, not immediately wrong, but still wrong.

The first couple days of week two were going well. He had gotten better sleep, he had to give himself less long pep talks to get in the shower, and he hadn’t thought about the accident as much. Over all, it was pretty cool.

He got his diagnosis on Tuesday. Depression and ptsd were there like he thought it was, and also anxiety. He hadn’t thought about that one, but it made sense. He had to take a few pills that he couldn’t remember the names of for the life of him. He started them the same day he was diagnosed too. He was on a roll. He didn’t get enough water though so he had to wash the taste out of his mouth after that.

He hadn’t noticed too much of a difference on Wednesday and Thursday since they were still settling into his system, but on Friday he felt a little brighter than usual.

“Ugh, finally.” He grumbled. This was great, he was actually starting to feel normal again. He walked downstairs to get some food, and as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

He turned to look, but it didn’t happen again. He shrugged and continued pouring the milk in his cereal. He heard more sliding noises behind him. He whipped his head around, but it stopped again. He was on edge now.

He grabbed a spatula from the drainer and held it up in defense, turning around completely towards the kitchen counter and holding it up to defend himself. He squinted at everything nearby, waiting for something to seem out of place.

He heard another sliding noise from beside him and jerked his head towards it. It stopped again, right before he could see what was going on. He threw the spatula down in frustration. “Oh come on!” He shouted. That might not have been the best idea.

As soon as he stopped yelling, everything on the counters started to shake wildly back and forth. He backed up towards the table in fear and went to pick up the spatula, only to realize that it was spinning around on the floor.

Am I really seeing this shit right now? Is this real or is my brain playing with me?