Myllady

“I mean…yeah, okay? Yeah. But that’s the thing. I still don’t feel…yeah, all of that has changed, but I still feel like, just…hollow. Like nothingness.” “Sucks, huh?” Claudia said. Kaiyo stared at her incredulously. “Kaiyo, I’m sorry, but that’s how this path goes. It’s not an indication that therapy or the medication or the things that you are doing are not working. This is literally how it works.” Kaiyo scrunched up his nose, but Claudia went on. “At this point, we are still stuck in a Catch-22. See, we feel like crap, so we see the world as crap. We see the world as crap, so we feel like crap. We feel like crap, so…well, you get it. So, how the world actually looks is irrelevant at this point. The actual facts aren’t large enough, and your perspective hasn’t cleared enough, to cause a noticeable difference to the cycle of negative thoughts, negative emotions we are stuck in right now.” Kaiyo slumped a little in his seat, but Claudia”
― Marina Vivancos, All That Has Flown Beyond

“Kaiyo lay in bed and thought about taking a shower. He could see each step unfurling before him. How he would have to make all his muscles move to drag himself out of bed. How he would have to get up, undress, walk to the bathroom. How he would have to turn the water on and wait for it to heat. How he would have to step under the spray, wash his hair, his body, his soul. How he would somehow have to find the will to get out of the warmth again. How he would have to dry himself, dress himself, have his reflection waiting for him behind the mist on the mirror. How his hair would be wet and chill the nape of his neck. That last detail got stuck in his mind. How that would feel, that dripping wetness. The inconvenience of it. On top of everything else, it seemed utterly unimaginable to deal with. Each imagined step weighed him down. It was a series of fragments to make an impossible whole. Suddenly, the rest of his life stretched out before him, a series of impossible steps. Step after step in action after action after action. How he would have to get up every single morning and go to class and complete his projects. How he would have to think about what he wanted to do with his life. How he would have to find a job and work and make money. How he would have to go to the grocery store and cook and eat. How he would have to talk to people and build bridges and live with the fear that they would break. Every day he would have to exist. There would be no respite from himself. Existing was a series of exhausting steps. His head filled with the thought of having another emotion, of having to contend with his morality, with his conscience, with having to have a sense of purpose. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was so unimaginably exhausting. The nothingness around him was almost better. The absence of feeling, of motivation, of self. He closed his eyes, and for the very first time, the thought of just stopping, stopping it all once and for all, entered his mind with shape and substance. He would do it, he thought. He would do it…if suicide weren’t another intolerable series of steps.”
― Marina Vivancos, All That Has Flown Beyond

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing you’re trying to measure the success of therapy and what you are doing for two main reasons. One, it’s exhausting, and you want to see if it’s worth it. Two, there is a voice that’s telling you this isn’t something that’s happening to you, but something that you are. Instead of believing ‘I have depression’, it’s ‘I have a quality in myself that makes me a depressed person’.” Kaiyo closed his eyes, nodding slightly. “That voice is always trying to be proven right, and it is the biggest freaking liar. It’s like a politician, twisting the facts, making something out of nothing. ‘See, you tried that coping mechanism a few times, and it didn’t make you feel instantly better! Obviously, it doesn’t work’! it says. ‘See! You’ve been going to therapy for months, and you aren’t feeling at a six consistently, this doesn’t work! It’s you’! Does that voice sound familiar?”
― Marina Vivancos, All That Has Flown Beyond

“He imagined having a home to go to at the end of the day where he could rest. It was like a lump in his throat, the idea of going home. Home. Where his worst worry would be what’s for dinner. Where he’d be able to go to his room and lay on his bed without being afraid of it, where he’d be able to go online or play video games and then do his homework at his own pace, where he’d be safe, where he’d be lov—”
― Marina Vivancos, In This Iron Ground