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Jisung had never been “healthy”.
sure, he ate his 3 meals a day (mostly), exercised and drank lots of water, but he was never healthy.
mostly, because it’s hard to be healthy when you’re in a constant fist fight with your own brain. your own brain —the one who’s supposed to guide you and quite literally be you— refusing to listen to you.
some might call it mental illness, others may call it altered neurotransmitters, but Jisung calls it “the boulder”.
being an idol for 8 years, who’s also a producer, and an ace, and not enough is exhausting enough as it is, and chemical imbalances in his brain definitely don’t make his job easier, so instead of referring to it as what it is, he just calls it “the boulder”.
when he was younger —barely after hitting puberty— he came across this boulder for the first time. boulder which was diagnosed by a kind lady with a clipboard and a very boring office. boulder which was supposed to be treated with medication and therapy sessions.
however, for 20 year old Jisung, the boulder wasn’t as easy to treat, since Jisung quite literally lacked the time to schedule his little therapy session with the woman he had been seeing for, what? 10 years maybe?
after successfully debuting with only 9 (give or take) panic attacks getting in his way, Jisung made the bold choice to go off his meds.
it was… certainly an experience. hard to get used to, but eventually, he did. Han Jisung had cured his anxiety and depression by himself. please, hold your applause.
needless to say, there eventually came a time in which it all came back down.
Jisung had to go back on his meds, back to regular therapy sessions, and back to sleeping next to a member just in case something happened during the night.
if there was something Jisung hated more than the actual boulder on itself, it was the something.
“I trust you, I really do. I just think it would be better for you if there was someone near by in case something happens during the night. Not that I’m saying it will happen. It’s merely a probability. You get it, right?”
coincidentally, those were Chan’s words right after chatting with Jisung’s therapist.
what could possibly happen during the night? did Chan actually think that Jisung would kill himself while everyone else was sleeping? have a panic attack and die?
anyway, he —yet again— eventually got used to it, and with time, the sessions weren’t as frequent, and he could finally have a bed all to himself again —not before a long speech about how he would always have the members’ support and how they were all either a room or a call away—.
the meds, however, those never changed.
after years of being on them, you’d think he’d eventually get used to them, just as he had gotten used to every other aspect in his life. but how can you get used to dullness? to life being constantly on slow-mo?
it might sound horrible, but the time when he wasn’t on them, was the most alive he had ever felt.
but ever since “the boulder” was a substantial stray kids issue that suddenly concerned everyone, there was not a chance that he could ever go off them again, so he tried to get used to them.
after their most recent comeback, Jisung had been pretty calm. smiling, cracking jokes (and Lee Know), just being himself, if you can even say that.
so when the members were all spread around Changbin and Seungmin’s dorm, laughing while listening to their joint playlist on the background, sharing stories about god-knows-what, and his breath started coming in in short gasps, the sounds around him were muffled and his vision started blurring, he wasn’t confused or sad. he was just angry.
angry at himself for not being able to behave like everyone else, not even on meds. angry for not being able to do anything about whatever was wrong with him.
he excused himself and went straight to the bathroom, where he supported his weight on the sink and splashed some water on his face.
this wasn’t the first time this had happened before. actually, it had happened a million times before, and even with all his expertise and experience, he still hadn’t figured out a way to calm down on the spot, let alone it even being possible.
as his lungs expanded less, the tears blurred his vision completely, he fell to the floor and crouched beside the door, hiding his face between his knees. he shut his eyes tight as the tears started falling and then forming again and tried to take a deep breath in, but he could barely take any air in. his brain was swirling with thoughts, so, so many of them, that he couldn’t even name one.
the only thing he was able to do was repeat “i’m not going to die” under his breath for as long as this would last him.
he would try to take sharp intakes of breath as he muffled the sound with his palm over his mouth, and he thought he was doing a pretty good job, until he heard a knock on the door behind him.
as much as he wanted to tell whoever was behind that door that he was okay, that he would come out of the bathroom in no time, and that he was sorry, he physically couldn’t. it’s hard to talk when you’re struggling to even breathe.
so instead of replying, his breaths got harder to take, consequently, louder. he tried to make himself smaller, as if that would do anything for him. he felt some kind of… comfort? he didn’t even know.
“baby, you okay in there?”
Minho’s voice cut through his thoughts and Jisung did his best to hold on to that sweet voice that would bring him down from anything and anywhere back to earth with him.
it didn’t actually do much this time.
Jisung shook his head erratically even though Minho couldn’t see him, which made his breathing even more erratic as well.
“sung, are you okay? can i come in?”
Jisung would try to say something, to ask Minho to come in, to go away, anything, but no words would come out of his mouth. breaths were becoming painful, his chest was tight, his face was hot and so were his seemingly endless tears.
the next thing he knew was that one of Minho’s arms was holding Jisung by his shoulder and the other was cradling his face while exaggerating his breaths and enticing his boyfriend to follow his example.
Jisung’s hands immediately shot up to hold Minho’s. normally, he would try to stay as still as possible to avoid being more of a burden than he was already being with his stupid boulder getting in the way, but this time, he genuinely couldn’t care less. he needed an anchor and Minho seemed pretty adequate.
his boyfriend was saying something but, Jisung couldn’t hear him. instead, he did his best so focus on his breaths and follow Minho’s. in, hold, out. in, hold, out.
finally, his lungs had remembered their function and were expanding somewhat properly and getting enough air for him not to pass out.
once he wasn’t on the verge of dying, he let go of Minho and looked away, cringing at himself for having gone through that again with his boyfriend having to calm him down again.
“better now?”
“yea, thanks hyung. i’m— gosh, i’m so sorry, it’s fucked up that you have to deal with this”
“don’t apologize, this is not your fault. you’re my main priority and i will help you a million times if you need it, okay? i love you, sung”
“i love you too, min”
Minho went back to the living room to tell everyone that Jisung was sleepy and that they would call it a night while the latter splashed some water on his face and tried to make himself look somewhat normal.
when Jisung was drying his hands on the towel next to the sink, Chan appeared through the doorway and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
“you okay, bug?”
Jisung nodded.
“you’ve been taking your pills, right?”
another nod.
Chan then proceeded to walk closer to Jisung and gave him a bear hug, lifting him off the ground.
“i love you, bug. take care of yourself. please”
later that night, when Jisung was being cuddled by an asleep Minho, he breathed out. his boulder was a curse he would never get rid of, but he would always thank Stray Kids for being able to kick it out of the way every time he needed to and wasn’t able to do it himself.