It's Actually Kind of Funny(Phan)

It's Actually Kind of Funny- Chapter 4

A/N: 

What's up bros! Sorry if you want Phan stuff to happen earlier, I just want to actually let the story develop first. At least you get some KicktheStickz and Carriemon action (and some guilty pleasure KicktheFire action) c; You’ll get your Phan stuff soon!!! Feedback is always accepted, and wanted, hate or not. Anyways, here's chapter 4 of It's Actually Kind of Funny :D -Let me know if you're really confused with how the story is going- 

*Dan’s POV* (I think you guys already get that it’s Dan’s POV)

I woke up in the morning, the sun from my window blinding me. I didn’t bother to close the shades before I fell asleep. I felt like crap honestly, the effects of my fake shift definitely had worn off. I was in the clothing I came home in from yesterday, except my jacket and shoes were off. I had a blanket covering me and a pillow under my head. Things like this showed me that my parents actually cared about me. I flipped over onto my back and stared up at my ceiling.

It was Saturday, that meant I had a meeting with my current shrink, Dr. Armstrong. I know the term shrink is kind of disrespectful, but after you’ve gone through so many of them it kind of just seems like you have the right to call them that. Anyways, Dr. Armstrong had been my therapist for the longest so far. He’d been my therapist for three months already, whereas my other shrinks only lasted up to two months at most before my parents switched me to another shrink.

I had an appointment with him at 4:00pm and it was only 9:00am so I decided to change into a comfy jumper, some boxers, a pair of llama socks, and then go back to my bed and set my position for lying in bed and staring at the ceiling all day until my appointment.  I honestly didn’t care how I looked in front of Dr. Armstrong; he wasn’t a person who judged people, him being a shrink and all.

I looked over at all the homework I have piled up on my table. Over the summer we were supposed to do some assignment where we got an article from a newspaper every day. But, for some reason the school didn’t mail us the assignment so I ended up having to get all the papers from the summer and the month that had passed. On top of that, I was also missing about five labs which I ended up forgetting to do, due to my amazing skill called procrastination. If I didn’t do all of these assignments my teachers would fail me.

Of course, I could finish all of this in less than four hours or so if I just put myself to it. For that to happen though, I need to keep away from all distractions. This meaning shutting off my phone and logging out of my social media accounts. But, if I did that, people would message me more assignments, which I’d end up missing because my phone and social media sites were off. This causing me to have more assignments piled up, causing myself to not do those either. This then forcing my teachers to fail me, making me end up not getting into any universities I applied to. I would then get a terrible job and not get money, this not letting me get a partner, making me lonely, which leads to me getting more depressed, eventually leading to suicide.

You see, I probably overestimate how bad it actually is, and that in reality I’d be able to finish the assignments with no distractions or any extra assignments. But, unfortunately I end up over evaluating everything. So, I just decided to do the wrong thing and ignore the assignments. Instead, just lie in my bed and stare up at the ceiling until 3:30pm.

--

“How’s it going today, Daniel?” Dr. Armstrong questioned, no emotion showing in his face. Shrinks were good at hiding their emotions. I think they practiced doing that. That way people wouldn’t be triggered by their emotions. “Today is quite shit actually,” I exclaimed, trying to mime his emotionless expression, “I had a fake shift last night so I think you know how bad I feel after having one of those.” He wasn’t puzzled at my language; he’s a young man, probably in his early 20’s, so he understood my vocabulary.  “Mhmm,” he sighed, scribbling in his notepad, “And what do you usually do when your day is quite shit?” I rolled my eyes, knowing that in reality I did nothing but lie in my bed and stare at my ceiling. “Literally nothing, I just lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling,” I exclaimed, feeling an unusual trust with Dr. Armstrong. It was probably because he was so close to my age.

Dr. Armstrong’s full name was Doug Armstrong. He was an attractive man, with black hair and blue eyes. He was one of the only people that I knew who were taller than me. He dressed pretty casually, always in a t-shirt with two different solid colors and skinny jeans that stopped right above his ankles. He almost looked like one of his patients. He was very muscular; you could see that he probably worked out every time he got home from work, something I would never be doing. All though he was practically one of the most gorgeous men I’ve seen in my life, he wasn’t really a guy I would’ve dated. First of all, he was already married to a man named Joey. He also wasn’t my type; he was a little too plain for my taste.

“I see. Are there things that could help you get your mind of your shit day?” he asked. I looked around the room, not really focusing on what he was saying; I was just not in the mood to talk to anybody today. “Um, not really I guess. I usually just wait out the day until it’s over,” I exclaimed, putting my attention back on Dr. Armstrong, “It’s become a daily routine.” He raised his eyebrows, showing the least bit of concern in his face, before going back to his emotionless expression and jotting down something in his notepad.

For the rest of the session we discussed what we usually talked about every week. On a scale of 1-10 how bad did I feel, 8. The usual shrink stuff a shrink would ask and say. I got up at 5:00pm and left the building, feeling the wind blow against me.

--

I got home, hugged my mum and dad, and sat down at the dining table in the kitchen. “Welcome sweetie, I’ve got some chicken in the oven and some tea ready for you. How was your session?” my mom immediately asked once I sat at the table. I smirked at her concern; she knew I was doing badly today. “I guess it was okay, same as usual. I’m happy with him though, so I don’t think I need to switch anytime soon.” I was exhausted from switching so many times, and I honestly was happy with Dr. Armstrong.  She let out a breath of relief and took the chicken out of the oven.

She placed a piece of chicken on the plate with some leftover pasta from yesterday’s meal. She put the plate and the tea on the table in front of my face, smiling, knowing I was going to have trouble with this. Ever since the little man appeared in my stomach I barely ate. It wasn’t my choice, I just couldn’t keep it down because that little man would pull on the imaginary string and out the food came. But no, I was going to eat every last bit on this plate no matter what.

I took a bite of the chicken, chewed very slowly, making sure the food was pretty much just mush, and swallowed slowly. I sipped a gulp of my tea and breathed out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Okay, one bite, done. My dad looked up from his work papers, “Are you okay, son?” I looked at him and faked a smile, which was apparently good enough for him to think I was eating without any trouble.

I sighed, took another bite of chicken along with some pasta, chewed, swallowed, and drank my tea. Two bites. Check. “Honey, we’re not making you eat if you really can’t,” my mom gasped, noting how I was struggling to keep down only two bites of my food. I felt the cold sweet build up on my forehead. When I got my depression, a side effect of it was getting this cold sweet all over my face at random times. It wasn’t even just a little sweet; it was loads of sweet, visible drops of salty water, causing the tips of fringe to turn into little waves.  “No mom, I am finishing this meal no matter what,” the words came out of my mouth sounding more filled with anger than determination.

I got another bit of chicken and pasta, chewed, swallowed, and drank my tea. Three bites. Complete. I felt my stomach clench.
You could do this solider!
No I can’t sir! It’s too hard!
Keep it down, keep the food down!
I can’t!
Yes you can!
No, I’m going to—

I jumped out of my seat and ran to the bathroom. I slammed the door behind me and hunched over the toilet, letting out the three bites of food that I had taken. I left the light off and sighed, wiping my mouth and leaning against the wall. I was pathetic. I couldn’t even keep three bites of food as simple as chicken and pasta down. How was I going to be able to take care of myself in the future, when I was out of my parents care? But, that’s the point. I wasn’t going to, I wasn’t going to need to because… I was ending it, ending it all. I was ending this pathetic mockery of my life.  

Yup, that’s chapter 4 of It’s Actually Kind of Funny. Did you enjoy? I’m probably updating later today so look forward to that! Leave me your feedback on what you thought. Should I change anything? I don’t know, I’m pretty okay with it. I mean I think it’s going well, considering this is my first fan fiction ever. Anyways, hope you liked it. Look forward to chapter 5 soon! Love to all, bye. xx