#bad coping methods

Roman kept swiping through tumblr, bouncing between his friend’s blog, that one ask blog, that blog for that au he loved, his eyes flicking up to his notifications every few seconds. Oh, that was nice- nothing. That was a cool headcanon -maybe that was-? Oh, no, that was just a like. Oh, they posted another story, nice, he’d have to read that in a bit- anything? No. Still nothing.

Scroll, read, look. Scroll, like, look. Scroll, like and reblog, look.

To his anger and embarrassment, Roman could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes. He held his breath for a long moment, willing the tears away without a second thought.

He hated how irrational this was. He probably had just caught them at the wrong moment! He had posted a lot of stuff at the same time as that drawing, it probably had just gotten buried! They probably had just not seen it! So what if it hadn’t gotten any kind of attention like his previous drawings had? So what if there wasn’t even a single like? It didn’t matter! He was fine!

He turned the volume up on his music, his finger swiping a bit more forcefully across the screen as he swept through his feed. He- He just felt so- So useless. He felt pointless. He’d been really really really proud of that piece. And it was the right time for people to be seeing his stuff as he posted it. And he’d seen people liking and reblogging other stuff on his blog. And- oh! Another notification! Maybe...?

He quickly checked it, only for something sour and heavy to settle in his chest. The beginnings of a forced smile started to creep up his face subconsciously. They’d- they’d reblogged that piece that he’d just reblogged. The one that was so much- better than his was. That… that was fine! He was fine!

He swiped over to his notifications again. They- there was still- nothing. No one had liked it, no responses to it… not even something hateful. He- he was fine. He just. He just really hated being ignored...

Tears started to spill down his face in a rush, a few aborted sobs pressing against his chest painfully as he cried, a familiar, horrible grin making its mark on his face.

He was fine! It’s not like he hadn’t been ignored before! He’d just- continue like nothing had happened! He just had to- to wipe away the tears- smile through the pain- and everything would be fine! People didn’t like it when he cried, anyways! They hated it! They’d told him that so many times before, so why didn’t he just. Listen! For once!

"It doesn't really make any sense that I feel inferior to people I don't believe are more successful than me :("

Mmm... wha could I possibly do about it? Maybe start working on myse-

STOP BEING BETTER THAN THEM

But that doesn't-

If you're not more successful than them it does make sense for you to feel inferior, wouldn't you agree?

Yes, but-

Sshhh you know I'm right

But-

I know it’s bad... I know, but my brain won’t change

Whenever somebody I know/have heard of dies, my brain has apparently decided that ignoring it and just pretending that they’re still alive is the best idea 😖😕🤷🏻🙄

And when I sad I mean 'highkey sad but oddly wholesome'. It's a niche emotional core.

Tw: child death, bad coping mechanisms, visual and auditory hallucinations (imaginary friend) as a coping mechanism, bad therapy, not stellar parenting but far from the worst, plenty of bad mental health, trauma of various kinds, conflict, big lies, attempted incorrect diagnoses, caps lock, not 100% realistic I'll tell you now.

It's sad angst, what can I say? I apologise in advance! 

Roman and Remus were born twin boys to a healthy, happy mother

Unfortunately at about age one something terrible happens. Remus is no longer with them, and their parents make the decision to never tell Roman and try and pretend that Remus never existed in the first place, because he's quite traumatised by losing his brother and they are equally so.

They move across the country and Roman grows up, receiving therapy from an early age to help him adjust and cope with some interesting behaviours

For example as he starts talking he is constantly chatting away to his imaginary friend. Fine, his parents think, that's normal...

His imaginary friend is called Remus

He keeps talking to him as years go by, therapists come and go and his parents once even try to get him diagnosed with schizophrenia but it's not an accurate diagnosis and literally every therapist can see it

Age seven and Roman is almost entirely nonverbal except when talking to Remus, whether this would have occurred anyway after the trauma or is the result of his parent's unintentional mishandling of the situation and the parade of therapists and testing; who knows??? Certainly not Roman or his parents.

The most recent therapist suggests a behavioural adjustment therapy of some kind, but thank god Roman's parents have limits. They just move again.

Roman, now age 11, finally goes to a specialist school his parents gladly pay for and makes friends with some of the other kids, including Logan, Patton and eventually also Virgil