a messy canvas

Maybe I'll Be Okay [Phan]

(pov could be either dan or phil in this, the choice is yours.)

Pouring out what's been suffocating him to where he couldn't anymore was a challenge he had to face, whether he liked it or not. This may sound easy enough to you, but when the past two years have gone by and they're still kept inside because of a gnawing deep within your own making to not burden anyone else with what you're facing, it's not exactly a shift that can happen overnight.

He was getting worse, that was sure enough in his mind. As much as he wanted to push it away and not ignite the spark that was the reality behind it, there was nothing left for him to hold on to for that to be a possibility.

In the recent months he's done a lot of soul searching, trying to make sense of what was troubling him so severely. Now he thinks there's a solid answer he can rely on, something to bring forward as an evidence of sorts to prove he hasn't gone off the deep end in hopes of gaining attention. All he has to do is open his mouth and say it.

Yet he's too scared to own up to what's been plaguing him. For instance, once his well thought over explanation settled itself onto the people he cared so deeply for, the control would be out of his hands. This wasn't about having a grasp on how people would treat him afterwards, rather a fear over how he'd end up if anyone showcased a negative or disbelieving  outlook on his struggles.

What he was going through was very real,  absolutely no gimmicks were being played here. If any of the people he treasured in his life tried to belittle or shed any sort of tarnish towards what was going on in his head on a day to day basis, it would break him. All because during the time filled with questioning and searching for the answers he had now, these were the people going through his mind to get better for.

The next factor running its way through was what treatment options will be advised for him once he seeks professional help and if they will even accomplish what they're supposed to. What effects could these possible medicines have on him? He had thought of looking up said impacts online, but chickened out because at the time, he had been in the in between stage of accepting that the answers he found indeed applied to what he was facing. If he truly wasn't impacted like he thought, the last thing he wanted to do was cast any sort of disgrace on those who were truly diagnosed and had these problems to tackle each day.

While there were other factors drowning away in the galaxies of his headspace, he couldn't afford to dwell in them anymore. If he didn't voice what he uncovered within this long timespan now, he felt as if he'd never muster up the courage to accomplish the task.

So with an unexpected surge of bravery coursing through his veins as his alarm clock glowed with the time of 3:23am on what was now a Saturday, he spoke up.

The support that blossomed from his best friend's beaming pride over how he gained enough assurance for himself to admit what his demons were was above and beyond what he could've imagined to receive.

It was with that glorious uplift that he thought, "Hey, maybe I'll be okay after all."