Beating Hearts

The Man With One Eye and the Boy With No Sight

So. This chapter touches on mental disorders and the like. If you're sensitive to these topics, then I don't go too in depth, however this is a warning. If I say something incorrect or that you perceive as offensive, don't hesitate to correct me. Not everyone can see my intentions from the words on a screen, especially not on such serious topics. Regardless of any of my personal experiences, I am not good at explaining things, so if you have a more gentle way of talking about this, please comment.

Everyday, Percy went to the hospital with one container of blue cookies and another with one or two letters from concerned English students.

Everyday, Percy cursed the gods that he was getting better at making the cookies, that the letters were more organized when being handed to him, because it meant that there was practice going into these tasks, and that always brought him back to the reason for doing them.

Everyday, Percy felt irrevocably bitter.

They had never found the culprit.

Percy, rationally, knew they wouldn't have been able to. But he had still gotten worse. Fits of rage were more common, but not the kind that hit him deep, tapping into his powers, thank Chaos. This was more...superficial, in a way. It itched just under his skin most of the time, and would leave unless he was epically down in the dumps. This kind of anger was the sort that lingered and irritated and built up, with no real way to resolve the instigator because there was no real reason.

Not that those creepy stalker people from the government made his life any easier, but maybe it was just more noticeable now that he had a diagnosis.

That morning had been a few weeks into this routine of his, and from there, just when he was starting to stabilize, everything went to Hades.

Major Depressive Disorder. Dysthymia.

Honestly, that depression of some form was to be expected, but having it confirmed was...painful. And two of them? Was he that messed up? Percy didn't think having depression made a person weak. He didn't think that there was something wrong with being diagnosed with it, not inherently, just the crap that some people had to go through to get to that stage. But Percy had always known something was wrong with him, even before the depression, so why could he not be both mentally ill and smart enough to acknowledge that he was just a freak?

Panic Disorder. Generalized Anxiety Disorder. 

That's something I think most demigods would have at this point. We're constantly checking over our shoulders for threats. We always have a weapon on hand and make up elaborate cover stories to tell people so that they never figure out who we are, because if they do, then we'll be [redacted], and if that's not enough to make a person paranoid, I don't know what is. What we are. We're restless, and practically run on terror-driven adrenaline. Hades, the more obvious symptoms would be the panic and anxiety attacks most of the older veterans have at least three times a week. 

Bipolar Disorder.

That one was the shocker. Retrospect was declared evil, in Percy's books, long, long ago, but this just renewed his hatred with fervor. He didn't have all of the symptoms, according to the letter, but enough of them- especially having his depression already clear as day and the recent behavior he'd been experiencing. Even the few 'normal' days he'd had were a part of it.

C-PTSD; Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Getting this news wasn't surprising, nor did it spark another frustrated scream. He'd already known. He'd already known, that chronic exposure to fighting and bloodshed had twisted his brain. He'd already known that he had always felt hopeless in those moments. He'd already known that most of what he'd gone through was caused by abuse, or more accurately, neglect that condoned his abuse.