Passionfruit 8, Pomelo 19: Stages
Title: Stages
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Passionfruit 8 (to hope, till Hope creates // From its own wreck the thing it contemplates - Percy Bysshe Shelley), pomelo 19 (Time heals all wounds), My Treat (Olivia gradually recovers from her serious childhood trauma.), whipped cream (the first three), caramel (last one), malt (SC 267: I may look like myself on the outside, but I look like a warzone behind what you can see. - Kaizers Orchestra, "Enden av November"), pocky chain, fresh pineapple (Shake it Out, Florence and the Machine.
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG.
Summary: Olivia recovers.
Notes: This is Kelly's fault. And the song of the day. Personal anthem, yo.
WARNING: Depiction of depression.
--denial--
She felt nothing for months afterwards.
The first few days she held her breath when she turned a corner, expecting to see her father. But he was never there and she sank, eventually, into a sleepwalker's fog of numbess, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, not even sorrow.
She thought, when she thought at all, that this was a dream. One long, heartbreaking dream. It would explain why everything had gone so suddenly wrong, why she couldn't seem to feel anything, why nothing seemed real. If she could only wake up, everything would be all right.
If she could only wake up.
--anger--
It took a bleak, thankless Thanksgiving before she realized that nothing would be all right again.
She took it out on her mother over dry pieces of turkey and listless potatoes. She said all the words her broken heart said to her-- this is your fault, this isn't fair-- screamed with tears on her eyes until the words ran out.
Her mother set her cultery down with a clink. "Really, Olivia. You think this behavior would make anyone love you?" She let that sink in, then added, "He never will, no matter what you do."
She tasted nothing, after that.
--bargaining--
She tried. She really did.
She was a good girl, all through high school. She got the highest grades in class, attended summer school because she wanted to, and because it kept her out of her mother's hair. She graduated a year early, and didn't complain when her mother didn't come to her graduation, because it wasn't really worth it. She got a full scholarship to college, made all her own arrangements and didn't trouble her mother at all.
None of it made a difference. Her mother still laughed at her. Her father was still gone.
She really did try.
--depression--
The blackness lasted years.
It wasn't always bad. There were sparks of brightness, usually people-- Gina, Danny, Jake. There were days and weeks and months when she felt good, happy, even. And then there were the moments of blazing joy-- the first time Jake kissed her, the first time she hugged her father in more than a decade.
She learned to shut out the voices. She learned to think positively. She thought she was fine, time and again.
Then the blackness would crash down, and her sea of joy would be a trickle of light, evaporating into the encompassing dark.
--acceptance--
She was on the phone with her father, watching her daughters with half an eye. She had no idea what they were talking about-- her next visit, maybe, or his impending retirement.
"...and I'd like to talk about what happened," he said. "After your mother took you. If you're ready. I'm curious."
She waited for the pain, for the fear.
It didn't come.
"...Olivia?" he asked, after a minute.
It didn't hurt.
She was thinking about it, about the whole painful period, and it didn't hurt.
"Olivia? Are you there?"
"Yes," she said, beginning to smile. "Yes, Daddy. I'm here."
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Passionfruit 8 (to hope, till Hope creates // From its own wreck the thing it contemplates - Percy Bysshe Shelley), pomelo 19 (Time heals all wounds), My Treat (Olivia gradually recovers from her serious childhood trauma.), whipped cream (the first three), caramel (last one), malt (SC 267: I may look like myself on the outside, but I look like a warzone behind what you can see. - Kaizers Orchestra, "Enden av November"), pocky chain, fresh pineapple (Shake it Out, Florence and the Machine.
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG.
Summary: Olivia recovers.
Notes: This is Kelly's fault. And the song of the day. Personal anthem, yo.
WARNING: Depiction of depression.
--denial--
She felt nothing for months afterwards.
The first few days she held her breath when she turned a corner, expecting to see her father. But he was never there and she sank, eventually, into a sleepwalker's fog of numbess, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, not even sorrow.
She thought, when she thought at all, that this was a dream. One long, heartbreaking dream. It would explain why everything had gone so suddenly wrong, why she couldn't seem to feel anything, why nothing seemed real. If she could only wake up, everything would be all right.
If she could only wake up.
--anger--
It took a bleak, thankless Thanksgiving before she realized that nothing would be all right again.
She took it out on her mother over dry pieces of turkey and listless potatoes. She said all the words her broken heart said to her-- this is your fault, this isn't fair-- screamed with tears on her eyes until the words ran out.
Her mother set her cultery down with a clink. "Really, Olivia. You think this behavior would make anyone love you?" She let that sink in, then added, "He never will, no matter what you do."
She tasted nothing, after that.
--bargaining--
She tried. She really did.
She was a good girl, all through high school. She got the highest grades in class, attended summer school because she wanted to, and because it kept her out of her mother's hair. She graduated a year early, and didn't complain when her mother didn't come to her graduation, because it wasn't really worth it. She got a full scholarship to college, made all her own arrangements and didn't trouble her mother at all.
None of it made a difference. Her mother still laughed at her. Her father was still gone.
She really did try.
--depression--
The blackness lasted years.
It wasn't always bad. There were sparks of brightness, usually people-- Gina, Danny, Jake. There were days and weeks and months when she felt good, happy, even. And then there were the moments of blazing joy-- the first time Jake kissed her, the first time she hugged her father in more than a decade.
She learned to shut out the voices. She learned to think positively. She thought she was fine, time and again.
Then the blackness would crash down, and her sea of joy would be a trickle of light, evaporating into the encompassing dark.
--acceptance--
She was on the phone with her father, watching her daughters with half an eye. She had no idea what they were talking about-- her next visit, maybe, or his impending retirement.
"...and I'd like to talk about what happened," he said. "After your mother took you. If you're ready. I'm curious."
She waited for the pain, for the fear.
It didn't come.
"...Olivia?" he asked, after a minute.
It didn't hurt.
She was thinking about it, about the whole painful period, and it didn't hurt.
"Olivia? Are you there?"
"Yes," she said, beginning to smile. "Yes, Daddy. I'm here."