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likefatherlikesonWho: Justin with Sash
What: At last
Where: Hospital in Sydney, Australia
When: After this
Justin really didn’t want to lose his shit in front of a roomful of medical staff. Which was probably stupid, considering he had been doing that constantly on and off since he arrived at this hospital. This time was different. This time, it felt like he just didn’t want an audience because of what it meant. He did rationally know they weren’t there to invade his privacy but it was one of those times, he didn’t want to be looked at or observed. All he wanted was to be alone with Sash and he had no fucking idea how he would actually be when that finally happened but he was already trying to hold back tears when they wheeled him into the connecting room through the sliding glass doors, holding a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop himself crying.
He couldn’t even look right away. With his eyes trained down on his blanket-covered feet, he could hear the machines and that was enough. He needed just a little bit of time to brace himself before seeing Sash attached to them. Panic started to flutter in his gut and he suddenly wished he wasn’t doing this alone but he also only wanted to be with Sash. That emotional tug-of-war deep inside him was always unsettling and distressing, it wasn’t like this was his first proverbial rodeo with that, though. It was bipolar. It was C-PTSD. And n matter how much experience he had feeling it, it never got easier to cope with. He wasn’t an expert on it just because it sometimes felt like his default state. In fact, it was often the reason he didn’t want to keep living because he needed so painfully to switch it off. Today felt different. It was a distressing mix of woozy emotional unsteadiness where he both did want to switch it off but also wanted to somehow keep fucking holding on the best he could because Sash needed him. These things has been spinning around and around in his head for days. Talking didn’t help anymore. Not with this. Nothing helped this. How the fuck could anything possibly help this?
( While the hospital assistant positioned the bed and made sure the brakes were secured and the blankets were tucked in around Justin’s legs, Justin found it strangely comforting to hear the steady rhythm of beeps from the cardiac monitor in the room... )
LOG, COMPLETE
What: At last
Where: Hospital in Sydney, Australia
When: After this
Justin really didn’t want to lose his shit in front of a roomful of medical staff. Which was probably stupid, considering he had been doing that constantly on and off since he arrived at this hospital. This time was different. This time, it felt like he just didn’t want an audience because of what it meant. He did rationally know they weren’t there to invade his privacy but it was one of those times, he didn’t want to be looked at or observed. All he wanted was to be alone with Sash and he had no fucking idea how he would actually be when that finally happened but he was already trying to hold back tears when they wheeled him into the connecting room through the sliding glass doors, holding a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop himself crying.
He couldn’t even look right away. With his eyes trained down on his blanket-covered feet, he could hear the machines and that was enough. He needed just a little bit of time to brace himself before seeing Sash attached to them. Panic started to flutter in his gut and he suddenly wished he wasn’t doing this alone but he also only wanted to be with Sash. That emotional tug-of-war deep inside him was always unsettling and distressing, it wasn’t like this was his first proverbial rodeo with that, though. It was bipolar. It was C-PTSD. And n matter how much experience he had feeling it, it never got easier to cope with. He wasn’t an expert on it just because it sometimes felt like his default state. In fact, it was often the reason he didn’t want to keep living because he needed so painfully to switch it off. Today felt different. It was a distressing mix of woozy emotional unsteadiness where he both did want to switch it off but also wanted to somehow keep fucking holding on the best he could because Sash needed him. These things has been spinning around and around in his head for days. Talking didn’t help anymore. Not with this. Nothing helped this. How the fuck could anything possibly help this?
( While the hospital assistant positioned the bed and made sure the brakes were secured and the blankets were tucked in around Justin’s legs, Justin found it strangely comforting to hear the steady rhythm of beeps from the cardiac monitor in the room... )
LOG, COMPLETE