Redwoods; Sleepyboisinc angst

Only 3 days

TW for ed, panic attacks starts here. Just sayin
Also this is set in May 2021, when COVID is not a problem hopefully so the characters are aged up some

Edit from the future, can I get an F for the optimism that died come may?

Edit from the mega future, I'm setting this in May 2022 instead, so keep that in mind for character ages. Also a little context, Tommy lives alone but has a dog. His mom is there to watch the dog while he's in CA. He doesn't live close to anyone in this tho, he wanted enough distance to justify not physically seeing people.

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Tommy stared at his ceiling. 10 days with friends sounded amazing. Camping in California would be new. The only problem was his friends seeing him. He would be very new for them to see. It had been nearly a year since he'd seen Wilbur and Philza last, and he changed.

He liked to think it was for the better. His parents were concerned about how thin he'd gotten, but he thought he was fine. It wasn't like he was in danger or anything. He just wanted to like how he looked.

He glanced at his mirror. He wasn't that thin. Sure his wrists and hands were kinda bony, but his stomach was far from flat. His mum might disagree with him about that, but he saw it in the mirror. He knew how he really looked. He knew she only told him otherwise out of concern.

He wished people could see it from his side. He wasn't starving himself because of a social standard like his dad had mentioned. He wasn't counting calories to live healthier. He only wanted to not cry when he looked at himself.

He told himself he didn't care what others thought about his body. This was for him. For his own comfort. But, he was scared of what his friends would say. Whenever he had put on some weight, it made him sick to hear people mention it. But this was for him.

He repeated his justification as he glared at his reflection. 3 days until the trip. He gripped his bed sheets and gritted his teeth. Would they really be concerned like his mum? Was she actually concerned or did she just want to avoid a problem? Did she think he was going to put himself in the hospital? Was he just a problem waiting to happen?

His hands were white and shaking. His cheeks had gotten soaked and he had hunched over. When had that happened? As he shut his eyes and fought in a shaking breath, his mind continued racing. His friends wouldn't be concerned. They would think he was stupid. What kind of idiot avoids food? Maybe when he was younger they would have cared. As a kid, adults would try to help and genuinely want him to be better. But he's 18, he's supposed to be able to take care of himself.

He brought his knees up to his chest and gripped his arms around the violently shaking twigs he called legs. He's 18, and he's all concerned about his looks? He couldn't even stick to his less than ideal solution. He hated eating. Hated looking at the scale numbers increase even one decimal. But as much as he hated it, he had too many days where he'd let himself have more. Where his resolve would falter and he'd lose so much progress. He didn't mind on those days, but the feeling the next day as he failed to throw up his mistakes was the absolute worst. He shuddered.

He was now rocking as much as he was shaking. He missed the days when he was younger and his mum would hold him and calm him. Now he was much too old. He should have grown out of this. What was wrong wi-

"Tommy?"

His mum was knocking on his bedroom door. He forgot she was here. She was going to pet sit while he was gone. His head snapped up as each knock hammered through his swirling thoughts. He panicked and shouted the first thing he thought. "I'm changing!"

He heard a small "really?" and his mother went quiet. "Did you need something?" he added. "No, I heard some ruckus and wanted to make sure you were ok. Lunch is on the counter when you're done," she hesitated a moment. "I love you, Tom." "I love you too, mum." With that she walked away.

Tommy breathed some relief. His cheeks were coated in salt and his muscles were as tense as could be. He looked at his cursed mirror once more. He looked like a mess and scoffed at how pathetic he was. Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked at his door. She wasn't gonna let lunch slide three days in a row, not when she hadn't seen him eat breakfast in a month or two.

He scowled and climbed off of his bed. His stomach rumbled but he resolved that food was not an option today. He would have to eat more around his friends and wanted to eat as little as possible until then.

He cleaned up his face and headed downstairs. He grabbed the plate of a sandwich from the counter and said his thanks. Then he ran to his room and chucked it in the bin. He threw a coke can, an empty one, on top, and grabbed his suitcase.

Three days until he'd face his current worst fear. He'd just deal with it. He could just deal with it. So he packed as if everything was fine.

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Hey, if you think any of those thoughts, you are an amazing person and you aren't seeing yourself correctly.

I like you guys. You're nice. Thank you for being nice to me:)