Work Text:
And that's how it was, really- moments, minutes, hours spent thinking this is it before you're back together. You're taking breaths and know the redness is fading from your eyes. You don't know how many times this has happened, bobbing down to only bob back up, a restless buoy in the distance.
Coming back up doesn't help really, but you at least look better and can function.
Sometimes you just had to go to the bathroom, sit on the toilet lid, put your head in your hands, choke back a sob, blow your nose sharply and it passed. At least here, no one bothers you, unless they banged on the door because everyone needed something at any- every -given moment, expecting you to be great and smart and more.
And that's how it was, really- the constant need to do or save or change, pushing your body through the breakdowns and pushing back upwards so you could get shit done, fulfill expectations.
He liked being labeled a genius sometimes. It got him attention and praise, sarcastic but true, but it just built up this mountain of expectations that got bigger and bigger until people expected you to save the world, the galaxy, to fix this crisis.
Your 100% one day suddenly became only 50% the next and you were laughing at being at your wit's end before pushing to give your 150%, then 300% and on and on. And you reached it every time, or almost every time because you needed to, and you could breathe for a moment.
Up and down, up and down, up and down, further, further- was so damn alienating. Not from others, although it was, but from your own self. Every day this person who accomplished growing distant, and smaller, smaller-
You just knew how much of a mess you were, and the thought of letting someone in, letting them stay- brought forth images and sensations from the last time you touched something hot and jerked your hand away.
And that's how it was, really. You blew your nose forcefully, trying to push the strain and your true, lesser-known self out before checking your eyes to see how red it is around them.
Up and down, up and down, up-
Do you really need to be the person to save the world? You think, in the middle of a large project that's pulling your hair for you, you think with your head in your hands with that sacred moment of privacy, you think as you wake up, if you slept, to read the news of discoveries and inventions. Does the world need my- you've lost count of the percent, but it's every fiber of you, really. Because you do have so much to give, but you're so damn exhausted and find yourself in an endless cycle of always trying to be better, to be-
Up and down, up and down, up and down, your head buzzing as you open your eyes wide to come back to the moment, moving on.
Up and down, up and down, up and down, further-further- further- almost there- up and down, up and down, pushing and pushing and pushing-
Up and down, up and down, the journey to the top of that mountain larger every day.
Sisyphus, doomed to eternity.
And that's how it was, really, when you got singled out as smart, intelligent, creative, it was do do do. Every day, every moment, every breath- up and down.