[The meds kept him so dull. Wouldn't let him feel, wouldn't let him focus on what needed to be done. It was exhausting keeping up the facsimile of normal when you're on enough anti-psychotics to knock out a fucking horse.
Faking being an average college age guy when all that's inside is static and muffled sadness and rage. But throw away the medicine? It's like breaking the surface for the first time in years. Being able to appreciate the looks of his friends without playing along. Being able to laugh and mean it. The hallucinations and the voices. The paranoia telling him it has to be done they deserve this they did this he has to make it right.]
Yeah. I rigged all that stuff up. Ordered fake newspapers. Set up the projector to make that fake ghost girl. I studied everything my old man ever did for a a year, putting all of it together. No detail too small.
[It was neurotic. And for a while, the doing was all that mattered. Not the end goal. It was just something to keep him from suicide. Something to occupy his time. In the end, it had taken throwing away his meds and knowingly suffering the withdrawal side effects to make him go through with it.]
no subject
Couldn't go through with it otherwise.
[The meds kept him so dull. Wouldn't let him feel, wouldn't let him focus on what needed to be done. It was exhausting keeping up the facsimile of normal when you're on enough anti-psychotics to knock out a fucking horse.
Faking being an average college age guy when all that's inside is static and muffled sadness and rage. But throw away the medicine? It's like breaking the surface for the first time in years. Being able to appreciate the looks of his friends without playing along. Being able to laugh and mean it.
The hallucinations and the voices. The paranoia telling him it has to be done they deserve this they did this he has to make it right.]Yeah. I rigged all that stuff up. Ordered fake newspapers. Set up the projector to make that fake ghost girl. I studied everything my old man ever did for a a year, putting all of it together. No detail too small.
[It was neurotic. And for a while, the doing was all that mattered. Not the end goal. It was just something to keep him from suicide. Something to occupy his time. In the end, it had taken throwing away his meds and knowingly suffering the withdrawal side effects to make him go through with it.]