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[Feb. 13th, 2011|01:45 pm] |
*has been settling back well enough into his daily life in Gondolin, helped enormously by Ecthelion (of course) and preparing for the springtime tourism campaign* *still, can't deny that he was very shaken by the mission in Delving, not to mention the encounter with Qualmë*
*decides (rather reasonably) to bring forward his next appointment with Dr Murphy* *rearranges part of his morning and hands off Marigold to Becky before he walks down to the rehab clinic*
*stops to get a takeaway coffee (a tiny bit of milk, one sugar - just can't kick that habit) and arrives a couple of minutes early* |
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[Oct. 2nd, 2009|09:53 pm] |
*having scheduled an appointment with the one mental health professional in Gondolin he's at all familiar with (one Dr. Jon Murphy), manages to elude his captors at the House of the Golden Flower*
*in other words, swears up and down he's got a real, legitimate health concern and even offers to bring back a signed doctor's note if it will allay their fears, which are, of course, total crap (as though the lord of the House might actually rain down his wrath upon them (although he might, considering Glorfindel seems convinced he, Ecthelion, is liable to disappear or shatter or blow away at any moment))*
*consents to be driven over (not that it's an offer, precisely) and does find a moment to be glad of the fresh air, even if he's nervous about this meeting* |
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[Jul. 6th, 2009|01:33 pm] |
*has spent the vast majority of the weekend cooped up with his producer, putting the last touches on his album (and he still hasn't sung publicly since the injury (that's what he's calling it in his head now—"The Injury") and he's convinced his voice sounded like shit on every take, but what can he do? this baby has to go out...well, yesterday, ideally)*
*finally stumbles home Sunday evening, barely able to appreciate the quiet, undisturbed walk when he can hardly see straight, but glad that this thing (that's what he's calling it now—"This Thing") will still come as a surprise to mostly everybody, when most of the music business gave up on his commercial prospects years ago*
*has just enough energy to change into t-shirt and pajama pants before he crawls into bed* *resolves to sleep for only two hours before he gets up again and heads down to the office with his never-ending supply of coffee (but the next time he leaves that office, Glorfindel will likely be on his way home and that is no small comfort)*
[Edit] *wakes at 8:50 a.m. the following day (feeling considerably more rested), only needing to feel Glorfindel in his arms to remember why he didn't wake last night, as planned*
*is content to close his eyes and hold his lover (so beautiful in his most peaceful state) for fifteen minutes or so, at which point he gently extricates himself enough to reach over for his cell phone* *dials Esther's office number* |
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[Jul. 5th, 2009|01:00 am] |
*coming towards the end of his therapy session with Dr Murphy, gets to his feet and stretches* *has learned to relax a lot over these past weeks, even though he is still a little tightly wound at times*
*has seen plenty of Ecthelion and is almost reassured on the days when Ecthelion can only stay for an hour or so because it means he is not taking him away from work* *does worry about him though, because he looks so tired*
*to Dr Murphy, a little nervously* So, I've registered for that computer course? *rubs the back of his neck* I really am rubbish with computers but it's a beginners' thing so it shouldn't be too hard, I hope? |
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[Jun. 14th, 2009|09:24 pm] |
*really didn't enjoy the thunderstorm of the weekend but took Ecthelion up on his word and called him (and was thus talked down, even though it was the middle of the night)*
*is up bright and early on Monday morning and on his way down to the front to meet Ecthelion, with a noticeable spring in his step (the sun is shining and his boyfriend is coming to see him; why wouldn't he be happy?)* |
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[Jun. 5th, 2009|10:47 am] |
*immediately drives a House car to the rehab clinic where Glorfindel is staying* *(visiting hours have long since ended for the day but he is heartsick and in need of some sort of explanation, and willing to do anything to get one)*
*is politely rebuffed at reception and duly informed of both the lateness of the hour and Glorfindel's request for no visitors*
*braces one hand on the front desk and looks at the receptionist unflinchingly* Well, this time I'm not leaving until I see him. So you have three options, as far as I can tell. You can tell me what room he's staying in, you can get him out here, or you can have security drag me out. They won't do it without acquiring some broken bones, though. |
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[Jun. 2nd, 2009|12:35 am] |
*having gotten over the initial shock of Salgant's revelation (albeit with medication and a lot of reassurance that no one else will bother him), ventures out into the clinic garden where the sun is shining and he is learning to relax*
*still feels miserable and heartbroken and lonely but has managed to make it to page thirty-two of his book, with the minimum of repetition, even though he is still unsure as to how the main characters relate to each other* |
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[May. 29th, 2009|04:05 pm] |
*wakes up bright and early on one fine and glorious Sunday morning indeed!*
*showers/dresses/eats breakfast/etc. before leaving the house, memory stick in hand*
*makes a quick stop at a printer's before heading out onto the street again, carrying a large envelope* *is on his way toward the headquarters of The Daily Dirt when he passes the rehab clinic where his "esteemed" colleague is currently in residence*
*deciding he's got to satisfy his curiosity, detours back to the clinic and presents himself as a visitor (even maintaining high hopes of leaving without requiring rhinoplasty)*
[Edit] *returns to the Harp (having already forgotten his primary errand), and to his office* *dumps the envelope and its contents into his paper shredder and deletes the source files before the endless tide of his resentment has the chance to swell again* |
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[May. 26th, 2009|08:54 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | &ecthelion&erestor, &ecthelion&glorfindel, &ecthelion&salgant, @gondolin, @gondolin:fountain, @gondolin:rehab, ecthelion, erestor, glorfindel, lucas, salgant, stasia | ] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  melancholy | ] |
*despite shorter and less frequent visits, of late (awkward being a kind word to describe them and painful a more accurate word, and Glorfindel seems more and more relieved to end them), returns to the rehab clinic to see Glorfindel not long after his most recent revelation (and it isn't that recent a revelation, either, but he is growing used to Glorfindel not remembering things, too)*
*keeps the thought in mind to speak to Glorfindel's therapist and perhaps demand get some answers as to why he does not seem to be showing any improvement*
*looks for Glorfindel in the common areas and does not dwell on the fact that he cannot think of anything new to say, that he is only here to cling to some vague, desperate hope (today will be the day he smiles)*
[Edit] *hurries home and barricades himself in his office in an attempt to avoid any more (crushing) encounters today* *sits down and stares at his framed desk photo for a solid minute before unceremoniously shoving it into a drawer*
*accomplishes very little that can be called productive (although the hours still pass), until it occurs to him to actually check his calendar...and oh, that is the last thing in the world he wants to be doing now but he did promise, after all*
*sends Erestor a hasty text (agent orange, 10 p.m. i'm buying.) before going upstairs to shower and change, finally venturing out again as evening deepens* |
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[May. 26th, 2009|09:06 pm] |
*shows up early for his next appointment with Dr Murphy and is visibly fretting as he paces up and down outside the psychiatrist's office* *had been making progress except that everything is getting a bit fractured again (Am I doing OK?)*
*had a pleasant? visit from Erestor during the week (and has the card and flowers to prove that he is not delusional although the memory of the gentle, friendly touches is more convincing still) (it is not like the memory of being pried away) (Don't even think about us) and has even made it to the gym for a very gentle work-out which thoroughly exhausted him* |
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[May. 25th, 2009|03:16 pm] |
*stops into a corner flower shop after work with two specific purchases in mind*
*the first is a spicy red-themed bouquet, which he arranges to send to Nico's house with a note (You were right about the Fruitcake. Here's to not-looking!)* *makes a mental note to get over there and give her the details in person, and soon—before she hunts him down and shakes him out herself*
*the second is a vase of the brightest, most cheerful yellow blooms he can find, with a few white bits thrown in just to cut the glare* *declines an offer to have those delivered, as well* No, thanks, I'll deliver these myself.
*that done, makes his way over to the rehab clinic with the vase and a large-ish envelope in hand, halfway wondering if Glorfindel will even remember he was here two days ago (he's hardly himself, for all of the drugs)* |
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[May. 22nd, 2009|09:50 pm] |
*has been in rehab for ten days now and is on a minimum maintenance dose of a sedative (with some suggestion that antidepressants might be the next step)* *hasn't made much progress with Dr Murphy (and does not realise that Dr Murphy is simply biding his time and losing his patience)*
*has endured (oh, and that hurts) a number of awkward, near-silent visits from Ecthelion (when he was too shy to touch him or too sedated to speak)* *closes his fingers around the notes in his back pocket and he has acquired a few more of those, each accompanying some gift, like the latest hardcover edition of a popular spy novel series (one of his guilty pleasures) that arrived on a horrendously wet day (It's not the worst thing to be cooped up inside today. The weather's terrible. - Ecthelion)*
*thus contained (safe from the outside world), mooches around the clinic, staying close to the periphery of every room and every corridor through which he passes* |
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[May. 17th, 2009|11:02 pm] |
*makes it to Day 5 of his stay in rehab and thinks he might be due a visit from Ecthelion but hasn't quite figured out the pattern yet (Is there a pattern?)* *has two notes and the dimmest memory of two visits (or, rather, the reassurance from the clinic staff that "that tall gentleman" has been by every day) but is not quite convinced*
*worries at the string around his finger as he loiters down by the clinic entrance, eyed by the guards (who think he's going to stage some sort of escape) and eyed by the nursing staff (who are trying to give him his daily meds)*
*curls his fingers around the two notes (neatly folded in his back pocket) and watches the door, in preparation for another day of He loves me / He loves me not* *is determined, at least, not to be too sedated so that he might remember what happens today (so that he might pour over it later tonight, the way he pours over the two notes to extricate some meaning that may not even be there between the words and the dry -Ecthelion signed at the end of both and the phone number that probably does not mean Call me)* |
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[Aug. 29th, 2008|11:47 am] |
*after another brief check on Erestor (who is sleeping), finds himself at a bit of loss for what to do next, now that all necessary contacts have been made and all procedures initiated (and very little useful information gathered)*
*can't quite shake his uncomfortable mood, which is composed of about three parts guilt, one part satisfaction, two parts apprehension, and four parts I-have-no-idea-how-I'm-supposed-to-feel-about-any-of-this*
*asks after Glorfindel and learns that he has returned to the rehab clinic* *wanders out that way, hoping to perhaps brainstorm or otherwise work out what malevolent forces they're dealing with here* |
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[Aug. 24th, 2008|02:26 pm] |
*wakes early in the morning to find the other side of the bed empty, which gives him a moment's pause*
*sits up and rubs his eyes, smiling to himself when he hears sounds coming from elsewhere in the apartment*
*finds his jeans from the night before and pulls them on, then reaches for his phone on the bedside table and sits back down on the edge of the bed*
*checks for texts or voicemail and finds none, which strikes him as rather odd* *frowns* |
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[Aug. 18th, 2008|02:12 pm] |
*breaks for lunch and decides to ring Ava (since it's her day off) to find out whether she'd like to meet up with him*
*is really barely nervous at all, which he imagines can only be a Good Thing* |
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[Aug. 16th, 2008|08:15 pm] |
*is doing OK in rehab (no, really, thanks for asking)* *hasn't had a drink for days and is being weaned off various sedatives and stimulants*
*has just encountered a slight problem (very minor, really) and that is, while he's in solitary (not to be confused with a private, very cushy room), the staff have been interpreting lights-out very literally and have, in fact, been turning out the lights, plunging his room (solitary, not private) into darkness*
*thus, has been unable to sleep because of the complete inability to do anything but sit on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, staring sightlessly into the blackness, heart pounding, throat dry, until the first sign of sunrise* (*might just be on the verge of another massive breakdown, is all, but that's OK; hasn't had a drink for days and is being weaned off various sedatives and stimulants*)
*during the morning, borrows paper and a pen from one of the nurses and sits down to write twenty drafts of a note that he'll never send*
Dear Ecthelion,
I know I said I wouldn't I did mean to try I promised and I'm not taking back that promise I'm really really sorry to bother you but they keep turning out the lights I think I'm going mad I was hoping you could help. There is no way of writing this without sound like a girl/weakling/coward. They keep turning out the lights at night. I don't know how to ask them not to.
Please help I am so sorry. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I'll stay in my room. You won't ever have to see me.
Glorfindel
*folds it into an envelope and shoves it into his pocket (just doesn't know why) before going outside and sitting in a corner of the garden that gets the most sun* |
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[Aug. 10th, 2008|06:33 pm] |
*after a mad dash to the airport in Gondolin, two unscheduled layovers (flight #1 experienced engine trouble, flight #2 had a pilot go into anaphylactic shock--damned shellfish), no less than three implacably screaming children, and a nauseating round of Pretend The Passenger Next To Me Doesn't Smell Of Warm Mayonnaise, has finally made it to Menegroth*
*needless to say, will need a wind-down before he has to be civil to anyone*
*consults a pamphlet and heads to one of the recommended pubs* *plonks down on a barstool, stashing his suitcase and carry-on at his feet, and orders something nice and strong*
*a few swigs later, realizes how pathetic it is that his first stop in Menegroth is a drinking establishment* *okay, doesn't usually resort to alcohol, but the layovers. and the screaming. and the warm mayonnaise. DON'T JUDGE.*
*chuckles quietly to himself and pulls out his cell phone* *speed dial #2, plik-plikkity-plik, Send!*
Twenty minutes in Menegroth, already drinking. Time for rehab.
*clearly has no idea* |
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[Aug. 10th, 2008|05:57 pm] |
*is slightly perturbed to awaken in a hospital bed again before he realises that it's not a hospital room, so much as a rather bland, boring single room with bland boring curtains and bland boring wallpaper and a bland boring nurse's aide staring at him*
*does not feel as hungover as he thought he might (having drunk himself into a stupor the previous day) before realising that it has something to do with the drips he's hooked up to providing him with hydration and all the vitamins he's been missing since he threw himself into alcoholism*
*then remembers the previous day (namely Gil-galad returning to the House of the Golden Flower and being horrified and bullying him into going to rehab and signing all the appropriate forms)*
*manages to get up (and detached from his drips) and showered* *goes out into the bland boring garden and waits to meet with the director of the rehab unit* |
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exanimate
calm
weird
confused
drained
blank