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Depression and A Bottle of Wine

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Re: Depression and A Bottle of Wine

Post by Rika on Sat Dec 16, 2017 1:34 pm

Was there really anything to grasp onto with that subject. Anything more to pull out that hadn't already been said? The demon didn't think so and so he locked whatever thoughts he had on the matter within for the time being, trying his best to work around the negativity within, but still finding no exit. The other’s silence didn’t add or subtract from the feeling though as the demon remained quiet until the whole subject of breaking people and submission came about.

“.....”
The demon was quiet for a moment almost seeming like he wasn’t going to answer, but then looking down a bit, he would respond. “To be honest, I used think that breaking people down was normal. And kindness...kindness the odd ball out. As for people hitting their head and what not, I dunno. The ones that did the breaking seemed normal to me.” Maybe his mind was warped due to how he had been treated in the past and while he did experience kindness, he still didn’t quite get it. Just like he didn’t quite get how to stand on his own feet at times. His perception of the world...maybe it was just different from the norm due to how he lived before. Perhaps this perception was also part of the reason he ended up in these low places like he was now.

He would ponder that as they drifted into silence after a fail attempt of making things lighter turned into shrugville and nothing more. The demon didn’t particular mind this preferring a bit of silence over arguments. Besides, the silence gave him more time to rest before he had to tackle the next issue.

To what he heard, the demon would watch the other for a bit before his eyes drifted to stare at the TV as he remained quiet for a moment trying to figure out how to explain that one. In the end though, he would close his eyes and just prayed that whatever came out of his mouth made sense. “I am not honest because….I don’t want to be forced to face that stuff again. My past and all that is there. I don’t want to be before someone that is going to sit and judge me for what I am saying. Mark me as unfit or just hopeless case, etc. I don’t want to be marked like that. Because if I am then….other things follow. I could lose my job or worry folks more...end in up a place I don’t be in. Yada...Yada…” the demon would shake his head as he reopened his eyes, blinking a bit as tears threatened to come. “I guess its fear of the unknown, but still I just want to be in that boat...even if it may better. I just…” The demon trailed off at that one unable to continue. The emotion on that subject was high, but somehow he managed to hold the tears back as his fists balled on his lap his hands shaking from it all. Trying to hide that fear, he forced himself to fold his hands together. The trembling was still there, but at least not quite as badly as when he had his fists balled up. As for that last comment. “Ah….that,” the demon would sigh a bit at that one. “True or not….I cannot burden you or Merk with this. It’s already bad enough you are hearing this, but to ask you to carry me too? That’s too much to ask. I don’t want to drag anyone down with me….my shit you know….” Even though he knew he needed help, he just couldn’t ask that of someone close to him. To ask that of them would mean he’d be asking them to come down a hellish path with him. One that would expose somethings he wasn’t sure he was ready to share with another. No...He couldn’t ask.

The demon would stay quiet for a bit after that, his ears remaining down and his tail twitching a bit in agitation and some other miserable emotion. It would take him a moment, but eventually he’d open his mouth again. “You said...therapist didn’t work for you either. What were...your issues?
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Re: Depression and A Bottle of Wine

Post by Sharaku on Sat Dec 16, 2017 5:03 pm

Hm. “I wouldn’t…say I see kindness as the norm either. Most people honestly fit neither category. Rather than have any interest to be super nice or to make your existence hell, they would just pass by you as they have their own lives to deal with. I generally just assume neutral until the person gives away their intentions, assuming they have any that concern me.”, he would shake his head with a sigh. “And well, I don’t know about you, but that ex-girlfriend of yours for example clearly didn’t have something right in her head. And I can’t even feel bad about saying that.” Perhaps it came down to how good you were at spotting the bad apples in the bunch? Even if they try to mask it somehow, it’s not like it never shows. There are always some signs.

At any rate, once the silence that fell upon them for a while passed…he would remain silent for a while more, not responding until the other was done speaking on the subject entirely, at which point he would rub the bridge of his nose slightly. “So you aren’t willing to talk to a therapist because you don’t trust them to be nice to you. But a person you could trust is a no because you don’t want to be a bother. What then? Are you saying you’d willingly just sit there alone until you die because you won’t get over yourself? Because that’s what will happen if you say nope to every option there is.” He doubted that was what the other really wanted at the end of the day. “Besides…how long is it going to be until you can’t keep hiding it anymore, and basically make yourself land in these places you don’t want to be in thanks to your own refusal to move and focus on your own well-being for once?”, he’d add after a short moment of contemplation. Really, he had to wonder. If the guy was as bad as he was already, wouldn’t he just break eventually and possibly even make things seem worse than they could otherwise? It’s probably more worrisome for people when it happens all of a sudden without any beforehand notice thanks to stubborn refusals to rely on anyone ever.

When the other asked for information in return, he would frown slightly, before resting his chin on one of his hands. “Mostly…the fact that they didn’t know how to work with me. My condition isn’t one many therapists have a lot of experience with, on top of the fact that I’m not the most typical example either. I score rather high for emotional blindness, and most just throw their hands into the air when they see that, considering how therapy tends to rely on them drilling you about how you feel about things. I’ve even had one therapist straight up refuse me when she read my diagnosis. I’ve kind of stopped trying to rely on them at this point. My life is confusing enough without the extra work provided through that.”, he would shrug somewhat nonchalantly at that. He was hardly lucky in that area. Sure, there was a chance of a therapist qualified enough to handle this particular case existing somewhere, but was it worth it to go through dozens of failures to get there? He’d rather focus on making some progress by himself than waste his time that way.
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Re: Depression and A Bottle of Wine

Post by Rika on Mon Dec 18, 2017 7:45 pm

"Neutral. I suppose that is one way to look at it. Too bad I can't see it that way at times." The moment he opened his mouth to engage with someone was the moment he began to wonder and worry what the other thought of him. It wasn't on every encounter, but the feeling cropped up more than once making him a anxious ball until he got to know someone well enough to at least relax. Thankfully, he hid his nerves pretty well behind his smiles and kind behavior. As for that other comment. "She....she wasn't always like that. When I first met her she was as pie. Kind and loving. Honestly, she didn't seem like the type to be the way she is now. It wasn't until later down the road she became sneaky and then down right cruel when I bucked up and rejected her. And now...now I am not even sure what to think of her, but she has fallen quite a bit. It makes me wonder sometimes what caused it or why she even became that way." He highly doubted was just his rejection that did....or maybe she was always like that and he just didn't know until it was too late. Maybe he was just a bad judge of character or missed a cue...anything could've been the reason for what had happened to him. Anything...

That aside, the demon would hear the words the other said. Hear the questions posed and find himself at a loss for words. Sure he tried to open his mouth and say something, but no words would come as he winced uncomfortably at it, looking away from the other. He would fold his arms rubbing them a bit as a way to try and comfort himself as he tried to work through it all without breaking. It was a hard process and honestly the look on his face showed just how distressed he was about the matter. He looked like he could cry, but he held it in as he bit his lip unable to answer for the moment. He knew it was bad and would probably frustrate the hell out of the other, but....He would continue to be quiet, his eyes returning to the other when he answered his question about therapists.

To what he heard, the demon would look down a bit as he kept rubbing his arm and feeling uncomfortable, but at least able to speak again for the moment. "I see. What were you going to therapy for?" he would ask not trying to avoid the questions posed to himself, but rather using the conversation to ground himself again so he could perhaps formulate some sort of response back to the other's earlier words. He just needed a breather from it is all.
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Re: Depression and A Bottle of Wine

Post by Sharaku on Sat Dec 23, 2017 9:51 am

Well, it was true that he generally thought nothing of people, but on the other hand, he did take it to the extreme at times. He couldn't care less about what they assumed of him for no reason, but he certainly saw most people as a pain in the ass. Their attitude was second to the fact that company was just a lot of unnecessary work by base. He typically didn't even want to be around anyone to begin with. Not worth it considering they would just end up grinding his gears sooner or later.

He would raise an eyebrow when it came to that woman. "She acted sweet and pleasant towards me too. For as long as it seemed like she could be in control of the situation and get what she desired from it. Then she got mad when I clearly didn't give a fuck about her. If I were to make a guess, I would say she was that way even back then. It just depended on the situation. She just had no reason to become a bitch for as long as you were kissing her feet and fitting the image of what she wanted. Sounds more like you got sort of played." He didn't know her much personally, but she seemed like the type of person that had the attitude of a spoiled princess, and would act out the moment things did not go as 'planned'. Sweet and nice only for as long as everything was the way it was 'supposed' to.

Nevertheless, he would stay silent after, opting to not really dig into things. He wasn't all that frustrated right now. To be honest, he was in more of a detached mood at the moment, rather than anything else. He didn't really intend to instigate beyond what seemed necessary, thus he wouldn't say much more. Besides, he had already stated his point. If the other were to refuse to acknowledge it, it wouldn't matter how much time he spent on putting it out there. There was only so much he could say before he started sounding like a broken record.

When the other questioned him further, he would half shrug with a blank face. "I assume it's standard approach in general. They like to recommend therapy and the like as the first solution to any mental issue. I think it's highly useless unless said therapist actually knows what to do though. I don't like them." Then again, he wasn't partial to people in general anyway.
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Re: Depression and A Bottle of Wine

Post by Rika on Sat Dec 23, 2017 7:00 pm

Rika sighed a bit at that one as he looked off to the side a bit tired as fuck, but still trying to shuffle through it all. "That could be the case. I fell hard for her...and maybe I just didn't see the truth because of it." It was hard to say if he was actually blind or if she was good at pretending. Or if something really triggered the change in the woman. And to be frank at this stage, it was kind of hard to pull it all apart. The more he tried to figure the past situation out with his ex, the more his head began to spin making him feel even sicker.

That sickness only worsen as more things were thrown into the mix, shutting the demon down for a bit as he tried to sort it all and ground himself. He tried grounding himself by focusing on the other, but the response he got back did not give him much room to run with. It was just a series of facts that in the end he just nodded to as he closed his eyes a bit becoming silent.

As he was being quiet and gathering himself, Andromeda would come into the living room and after a stretch, she would hop up on the sofa and settle herself on Rika's lap. She would lean against him seeming to be highly aware of his distress.

On instinct Rika took a moment to just pet the cat as he thought for a while longer and then with a breath outward he would speak.

"I...would have to agree. With the statement about therapists. They can't help you if they don't know how to handle your case or get in you position where it is easy to just talk to them," the demon would pause as he kept his eyes lowered as he continued to stroke the cat, the action somehow calming him and giving him that solid ground to talk again. "You asked me a question a moment ago that I honestly...don't know how to answer. I know I should be open to help, but to be frank...I don't know how to ask for it in a honest way. Like I can give the tip of the iceberg to Merk or you, but to sit down like this, tell this and then ask if you would support me?" The demon shook his head. "For me it feels like the biggest sin to ask someone to help me carry my crosses, but it has come to a point where honestly I am being crushed by own despair. The more I try to walk...the harder it is. The further I sink. I don't want to bring anyone into this, but I have to.....so..." The demon would wince a bit as he fought against the side of himself that was begging him not to do this to just deal with it on his own. That side that was...scared of help....It took a moment, but he would finally speak again.

"Sharaku....can you help me walk until I can my own again? Help me talk... to Merk about this as honestly as I have been with you?" he would ask the question, the tears this time coming. He wasn't crying because he was sad, but rather he was fighting with himself in a way he never expected. He was pissed beyond belief that he was doing this. Why? Why did he need to ask others for help? He had this. He could handle it. That is what his mind was telling him, but deep under all that he knew it was wrong and while it was uncomfortable as hell, this step was needed to go in the right direction. If he didn't do something now, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to build his courage again to try and take this step away from Hell. Either way he was quiet for now as he just let the tears come, his body shaking as Andromeda looked up at him with a tilted head; however, the demon wouldn't give smiles or say he was okay this time. No...he wasn't....he wasn't okay. He felt like he was drowning and was quite scared, but...he had to move forward....He had to...right?
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Re: Depression and A Bottle of Wine

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