|Thomas Julian Kemp (asterismos) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-10-13 12:09:00
|Entry tags:||nerd, thomas kemp|
WHO: Thomas Kemp and Nerd [Serenity]
WHAT: Word-vomit breakthrough
WHEN: Saturday afternoon
WHERE: Serenity's place
WARNINGS: Talk of drugs and suicidal ideation
It felt like an admission of guilt, knocking on her door. Like he was going to Serenity to keep his troubles from his family, when it was really because she had known him so long and he still felt she could be objective. When she opened the door he sort of fell into her arms in relief.
He was glad she had red hair more often than not these days. He had a lot to say and if she looked at him with those eyes he knew so well, it might not be as easy. "Thomas," she breathed out, only returning the embrace after she took a moment to catch up with what was happening.
"Sorry, I should have called." He stepped back and gave her a sheepish look. He had pulled his sleeves down over his hands and he was picking at the cuffs, which was actually body language Serenity knew well.
"No- No, it's good. Come in." He allowed her to pull him into her living room where he sat on her sofa as she fetched him coffee. The minute it was in his hands, he was drinking it.
"Thanks," he said, after a moment. She had taken the seat opposite him and she was gazing at him with a worried expression. Apparently the eyes were the same no matter which face she was wearing at the time. "I uhm- I needed someone."
"I can see that," Serenity said, leaning forward in her chair. "Does anyone else know you started using again?"
That was exactly the reason Thomas had come to her, even if she had the information a little wrong. "Technically, I didn't. I got jumped and someone shot me up and before you say a word, I know how it fucking sounds." What Thomas hated most about all of this wasn't that he had been injured and fucked with again, it was that it was making his loved ones question his honesty. He felt like stamping his feet and screaming that he wasn't a liar, but that was hardly going to do any good. "I don't know who did it, or why. Just that it happened."
"Shit." He heard the creak of a chair and then she was beside him, one arm around his back. She smelled so familiar, it was strange and comforting.
"Yes, shit. And then I decided to get a hobby to get my mind off of how mind-blowingly good I felt for a few hours, and guess who I met? Fucking Opium! Completely on accident. Serves me right for thinking I could have a normal hobby. I fall in love with a girl and she turns out to be a thirty year old personification of a subgenre. I find out I have Huntington's but then get hospitalised for a bleeding brain. I don't do anything normally."
"Normal is boring," Serenity piped up, and Thomas waved his hands around.
"I wouldn't knock it for a day or two. Anyway, the cravings aren't that bad. They were the first day, don't get me wrong, but I'm okay now. Just a bit jittery." It wasn't wanting heroin making him so cagey. "I just- I keep thinking about something. And I hate that I'm thinking about it, but I can't stop."
He could see the worry written all over Serenity's face, but it was obvious she didn't understand what he was getting at either. He didn't blame her either, if someone had told him a year ago he'd be thinking about ending his life, he'd have told them they had the wrong person. Thomas had been through some terrible and trying things, but he had never once considered suicide. Depression wasn't something he had experienced, and it was little wonder it was catching him so off guard now.
It was not easy to simply blurt out that he constantly thought about death, and so he just started talking and hoped he would get to the point eventually. "I had the brain surgery and before it all I could think was that I wasn't ready to go. It all happened so suddenly and I didn't have time to process it. When the surgery went well I was so relieved but then there was all the healing I had to do and still have to do. And I feel like I have no right to complain because there are so many people out there who aren't as lucky as me. But I hate being cooped up and acting like an idiot and forgetting things. The whole time I kept thinking...this is going to happen again too. And it's going to be worse. And instead of healing, I'll deteriorate. So what's the point in healing now?"
There was more, but it was clear Serenity was starting to understand. "Thomas-"
"I know. I have a kid and a family who need me. And I have this...amazing girlfriend whom I love so much." He closed his eyes for a moment so he could just breathe. "And even so, I kept wondering if I just stopped taking my medication, wouldn't that be better? Or I could arrange a fall because if I hit my head hard enough, that'd take care of it. Because fucking hell, I don't want Huntington's! I don't want to die like that."
He stood suddenly so he could pace, and he purposely didn't look at Serenity who was watching helplessly. "I'll basically be an infant and I won't know who I am or who anyone else is. I won't be able to take care of myself. I don't want that at all, and sometimes dying now makes so much more sense. And then I feel like an asshole because...do you know I never talked about myself this fucking much until I got that goddamn diagnosis. It's made me so selfish. And that's what this is and I know that! Pure selfishness. But then I think...how could they want me to stay when they know it'll be torture for me, and that's not fair of me either. But I can't get the thoughts out of my head. And I hate them and I hate myself, because I have everything and I can't even appreciate it!" His voice had risen and he was nearly yelling, his face turning deep red.
"And all I can think about is going out there and finding a dealer. Not because I want to get high, but because I want to OD. I want so fucking badly to feel nothing. Our poor son has had to parent me for months now, and Lena deserves so much better and if I stay it's going to end painfully. Not just for me, for everyone. It almost feels like a reprieve for them too and that's what scares me the most. That I'm starting to rationalise it like that. They deserve better."
"They deserve you," Serenity finally said. She stood from her spot and took hold of his arm so he would stop pacing.
"They do," he nodded, and he meant it. He knew rationally that was all they wanted, but he was so far from rational right now and he had been for a long time. "And that's why I came here instead of searching out a dealer. Because despite everything I feel, I will not leave Jamie. I couldn't do that to him." Just imagining Jamie's reaction made Thomas burst into tears and he was glad when Serenity pulled him forward so he could cry into her shoulder. "But God I want to," he whispered. "And it was touch and go there-"
"I know, Tommy," she soothed him. "Honey, you're depressed. Your brain chemicals are all screwed up and it's little wonder why. I'm going to take you to a doctor, okay?"
He sniffled a little and lifted his head to look at her seriously. "Are you taking me to the hospital?" It honestly didn't sound so bad right now.
"It's probably for the best," she said honestly. "They'll get you sorted with meds and you can talk to them about all of this."
"I don't want to be stuck there for ages," he said worriedly. He hardly thought that was going to help his mental state.
"It's usually two or three days," she promised. "Unless they think you're a threat to yourself or someone else. And they'll give you nice drugs to help you sleep. I did once myself. I mean, not that I can really die and the anti-depressants didn't have any effect, but it felt like a vacation for my brain."
"I just want to stop thinking about myself all the time," Thomas admitted wearily.
Serenity leaned in to kiss his forehead. "I don't think you do, Thomas. If you did, you wouldn't be here right now. And I'm glad you are."
"I'm not," he grumbled.
"You will be."