#hallucinating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr posted its first advertisements in May 2012 and subsequently earned $13M in revenue.

schizopositivity · 29 days

Text

Hallucinating is normal, many people experience it. You have most likely at least passed someone in the street who was hallucinating once. Or you've worked alongside a coworker who was actively hallucinating and you didn't even notice. Or your loved one hallucinated while you were in the room, but they were afraid to tell you.

Hallucinating is common, it's just not commonly talked about in everyday situations. If you don't experience it, or don't know someone who does and tells you about it, you've probably only heard it in the news or on TV. And they only really represent the worst possible outcome for shock value. But that isn't representative of how most of us who hallucinate experience it.

Most of us are just like everybody else, living our lives, just with the addition of hallucinations. We may need to take pills every day, or need therapy, or need to stay in mental hospitals sometimes, or need to be checked on by loved ones, but so do a lot of other people who don't hallucinate.

Hallucinations are just a symptom. Just like anxiety, or trouble concentrating, or tiredness. A lot of people experience it and have to learn to cope overtime. The only difference is we don't generally talk about it to people in casual settings. And it's because of the stigma. If you don't hallucinate, or know someone who does, you probably don't see hallucinations as a normal part of life, a symptom, just a thing plenty of people experience. But it is, it's not special, it isn't more dangerous, it doesn't have to be a huge deal.

Obviously hallucinations can be life changing and horrific, but so can other mental health symptoms. Hallucinations can also be neutral, or just annoying or even a positive experience. It's just a symptom, it doesn't automatically mean someone is in the worst mental state possible if they are hallucinating. It doesn't automatically mean someone is dangerous or unpredictable. It just means a person is experiencing senses that the people around them are not.

You have to learn to accept that it's just a symptom, and that people around you experience it, and they deserve to complain or talk about it just like anyone else gets to with other things in their lives. All you have to do is listen, and try to be understanding. Hallucinating is normal, you just need to stop treating it like it's abnormal.

906 notes · View notes

ayyliencat · 1 month

Text

Hey there, just needed to say something quick. ALL of this misrepresentation about schizophrenia everywhere is ableism. People that say “schizophrenia is spiritual”, “schizophrenia is satanic”, “schizophrenia is demonic”, “schizophrenia means that you have demonic entities attached to you”, “schizophrenia means that you are in spiritual warfare with demons”, “schizophrenia just means that you are going through a spiritual awakening” is just so frustrating for people who ACTUALLY have this mental Illness or suffer from psychosis. It all comes from people who don’t even HAVE this illness or experience these things. It is dangerous to tell people who have or don’t have schizophrenia/ schizoaffective disorder, people who are on the schizo spectrum or people who experience psychosis that what they are experiencing is real and is caused from external forces or that they are just in a “spiritual awakening”. Stop spreading your misinformation on this mental illness and do some research, your ableism is showing. This goes to all of you new age spiritualists that say “people with schizophrenia just experience the world differently than us” No, we are suffering from psychosis/hallucinations or delusions. It is a mental illness, not what your idea of what schizophrenia may seem like to you. I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, I’m not haunted or “woke” I’m mentally disabled, It is a mental illness PERIOD.

#mental illness #mental health #schizoaffective #voices #sensory hallucinations #audio hallucinations #auditory hallucinations #hallucinating #hallucinations #schizophrenia #schizo spectrum #schizospec #mental awareness #ableism #psychosis #delusional #stop the stigma #spreading awareness

344 notes · View notes

madpunks · 1 year

Text

hullacinating is 200% scarier & more stressful for the person experiencing the hallucinations than any bystander.

#bipolar disorder #schizophrenia #schizospec #schizoaffective #psychotic disorders #psychosis #hallucinations #hallucinating #neurodivergence #mental health

598 notes · View notes

how-much-for-a-whump · 5 months

Text

WHUMPCEMBER day 15:

Prompt: "Hallucinating"

Musallat (2007)

@whumpcember

#whumpcember2023 #day 15 #hallucinating #Musallat #Burak Özçivit #turkish #turkish movie #whump #male whump #whumpedit #dizzy #weak #confused #headache #covering ears #pain #panic #seizure #fear

70 notes · View notes

takeyourcyanide · 29 days

Text

There Will Come a Day

(Soul Eater Fanfiction)

Summary: Stein finds himself sitting, basking in the darkness of his bedroom. One day he will lose all control, and the thought won’t leave his head. He will not be able to stand anymore.

Character(s): Just Franken Stein, thought there is a mention of Spirit

Word Count: 796

Note(s): I wrote this in like 10 minutes. Short and sweet and very angsty.

Stein sat incredibly still, similarly to a porcelain doll, on top of the end of his bed. There was no light that could be seen in the room, not even from underneath the door could a speckle of light enter.

In the depths of the darkness, he heard a small whisper in one ear, a gentle, yet incessant ringing in the other. He had found himself being ripped limb from limb in the singularity of a black hole, his arms and legs being clawed off, his brain being made into mince meat slowly, so incredibly slowly, yet surely.

Stein stared at nothing at all, ignoring the feeling of invisible hands outstretching to wrap around his body, the feeling of a group of people surrounding him, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Stein was horrible at ignoring that awful, crippling feeling.

An emotion Stein seldom experienced coiled around his heart, constricting like a boa. He breathed out stuttered and shallow breaths, a swirling ball had formed in his throat long ago. He sunk his teeth into his chapped bottom lip, the taste of blood making itself known as a sharp, gut-wrenching pain echoed throughout not only his lip, but also his entire frame.

He had considered for too long the inevitable prophecy he was to fulfill. And now he felt as though his brain would explode, his skull along with it, leaving his walls stained with brain matter as though he had shoved a gun down his continuously closing throat. He felt as though he was going to vomit up his internal organs, leaving his body just as hollow as he himself happened to be.

One day he wouldn’t be able to “self-medicate,” and shakily, clumsily stand on his own. There would come a day when they’d all see what it was that he had been so desperately attempting to conceal from everyone. They’d all see. They’d see his soul for what it was. And he’d lose all of his control over himself.

His eyes bulged out of their sockets, damp and ready to burst, as Stein tried his hardest to continue breathing at a steady pace. His chilled hands trembled lightly against his thighs.

That emotion? He supposed it was fear. A fear he had never experienced before. It wrung him from the inside out, consumed him, just as he was slowly devouring himself.

As a stray tear fell down his helpless and pitiful cheek, he heard the loud sound of a little girl weeping. No. Sobbing. Bawling.

He did not move, instead peering emptily at the face that had briefly appeared before him. It was pitch black, after all. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him.

But what were his ears doing?

The bitter, burning, yet pleasurable scent of cigarette smoke filled his nostrils, he even tasted it, as well.

Was Spirit smoking in the apartment? No, he’d never break the rules like that.

And even if he was, why would he taste it? The taste and odor of the cigarettes had long since left Stein’s mouth and nose, as he had last smoke over an hour or two ago.

Or was it yesterday? He couldn’t tell anymore. Did he dream it up? No, he smoked.

More and more scorchingly hot droplets feel from his eyes. He did not sniffle. He did not whimper. He did not make a sound.

His expression remained unchanging, his position following suit, despite how terribly he desired to curl in on himself and simply throw a tantrum. But he’d surely be scolded for behaving so childishly. God forbid. But they wouldn’t go away. The feeling wouldn’t go away. And he knew there’d come a day.

He didn’t know when. But he knew it would come.

And the thought utterly horrified, terrified, and frightened Stein, as it banged against the gooey walls of his brain. He was sure each cortex was pulsating fervently, his corpus callosum tearing itself apart.

Stein’s body shook with a hushed sob, one of which he choked on.

He could do nothing but cry, as he was utterly powerless against his own mind. He dreaded that day, but could nothing to stop it.

It terrified him. Just like when he was a little kid.

It terrified him, for no one shall see him and live.

It terrified him, because there would come a day in which not only would he be cut open and displayed for the whole world to see, but because he’d lose himself entirely. Because all of the work he had put into playing pretend, into holding on by one of his many cracking finger nails, into simply just existing. It would all be a waste.

He had given it everything he had.

And it was all for nothing at all.

#soul eater #franken stein #stein soul eater #stein #dr stein #spirit soul eater #spirit albarn #angst #hurt/no comfort #implied hallucinations #hallucinating #hallucinations

24 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-whump · 5 months

Text

@whumpcember Day 15: Hallucinating - Remington Steele 4x1 Steele Searching Part 1

#whumpcember2023 day15 #whumpcember2023 #day 15 hallucinating #whump #remington steele #pierce brosnan #blood #pain #hallucinating #weak #sweaty

45 notes · View notes

whump-they-it-is · 5 months

Text

Whumpcember

No.15) Hallucinating

Upgrade 2018

#whump #logan marshall green #whumpcember2023 #hallucinating #upgrade #crawling #oh no the disappointment in his eyes

27 notes · View notes

one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year

Text

I couldn’t fall asleep and I was delirious and hallucinating and my college friends were there and they were trying to make me sleep because they couldn’t understand why I was staying awake.

#dream #delirium #delirious #hallucinating #hallucinations #college #friends #friend #friendship #sleep

231 notes · View notes

sickficideas · 4 months

Note

Heyy hope you’re doing well :)

I always love your fics that involve chuuya so much- do you have any other hc’s about him when he’s sick? I feel like he’d get really emotional and miserable the whole time- and sorry if this has already been asked before!

no worries anon I'm always happy to talk about chuuya his angst is so wonderful...and thank you so much I'm glad you like my fics 🥺💖 I really want to write more chuuya !!!

- totally agree with the being miserable the whole time...he hates staying in one place or being alone with his thoughts and nothing else to do, being bedridden is one of the worst things possible for his mind

- i wrote a fic about this but i think he's super prone to hallucinating when he has a fever (anything from hearing things to imagining hours worth of conversation with people who are dead) so if anyone around him sees any sign of a fever they are super vigilant about making sure he's medicated and rests before it gets to that point, because Chuuya is very in denial about the hallucinating

- he's really tired when he's not feeling well and often ends up in an overworking-catching-up-with-you situation, it hits him hard. he can recognize when he's too sick to work and will go home when necessary, he would rather be miserable than put others in danger

- he never tells Dazai when he's sick but of course Dazai always finds out somehow and shows up anyway...

- the flags were always really good at taking care of him, even if he just had a head cold. it always annoyed him to no end, but now that they're gone the loneliness he has to suffer through when alone in his apartment is especially painful 💔

- he always runs super hot when he has a fever. chills almost never happen for him

#i hope these are okay!!#bsd headcanons #chuuya #dazai #the flags #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #illness #sick #ask box #ill #fever #hallucinating #sicknario

23 notes · View notes

schizopositivity · 8 months

Text

Words that are very important to schizo-spec and psychotic people because they are the few words that accurately describe our unique and often life-changing experience:

• delusion/delusional

• hallucinate/hallucinating

• psychosis/psychotic

•schizophrenia/schizophrenic

• paranoia/paranoid

• word salad

Please don't use these words incorrectly. It does directly impact us. Yes the meaning of words evolves, but we don't have words to replace these ones. But you have words to replace these if you are using them as descriptors for something evil, unpredictable, selfish, contradictory, scared, misspeaking, etc.

3K notes · View notes

ayyliencat · 1 month

Text

Hey there 😊 just wanted to say a thing quick.. 💖

If someone has schizophrenia/schizoaffective disorder or on the schizo spectrum, please do not say that they are gifted, that they’re clairaudient, telepathic or anything of that sort. I know you’re just trying to make sense of it all but please 💖✨don’t✨💖

It feeds into their hallucinations/delusions that they are experiencing and that is DANGEROUS to someone who is hallucinating *them already thinking that the voices are REAL, that they actually can read minds or that they are thought broadcasting and everyone can read their minds all while actually believing it to be real* and can lead to them thinking they have a gift and can lead to them putting themselves in danger by thinking that what they are being told while hallucinating is REAL because they “have a gift” or are “gifted”. I’ve been told this before early on when I was first diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder about 5 years ago I had to find out on my own with my diagnosis that not knowing what’s real and what is real is just apart of having this mental illness. We are not being haunted by demons or ghost’s, it is a mental illness just like anxiety or depression, and unfortunately we suffer from hallucinations, catatonia, depression, and labile affect(Inappropriate involuntary laughing and crying) amongst a lot more symptom’s, just like you take meds for anxiety and depression we also have to take medications, it is a mental illness and should be treated as such, with knowledge and treatment can help someone get clarity about their recovery and can help reduce their symptoms. Thank you for reading 💖✨😊

#mental illness #mental health #schizoaffective #schizophrenia #voices #audio hallucinations #auditory hallucinations #sensory hallucinations #hallucinating #hallucinations #psychosis

243 notes · View notes

baldachinsbrainrot · 1 year

Text

DP headcanon - Hallucinations

Fun fact! Did you know that hallucinations can be caused by both flickering lights and vibrations at a certain frequency!

Frequencies below 20 Hz are known as infrasound. Infrasound are frequencies which humans can not hear, but can perceive.

Certain studies suggest that infrasound (IS) can cause both physiological and psychological health issues. These effects include feelings of annoyance or distress, to headaches, dizziness and panic attacks. [1]

Infrasound has before been connected to supernatural sightings. An example is when in a laboratory designing medical equipment, a foil blade was clamped in a vice, causing vibrations which were measured to be about 19 Hz. These vibrations had been bouncing between the laboratories end walls. They caused the staff to feel uneasy, even breaking into cold sweat. They reported seeing grey shapes floating in their view, only to disappear when facing it. [2]

Now the connection to DP

A popular headcanon in this fandom is that ghosts speak ghost speak. This can range from sounds related to the elements of their core to different types of trilling. For this particular headcanon I am going to talk about the trilling.

Hear me out, the trilling ghosts use to communicate are infrasounds. This is why, when ghosts are around, people start seeing things that aren't there. Ghosts can use this to their advantage. Some ghosts, especially ones that want to protect their haunts from humans, start excessively talking or making sounds to make people see things. They can use hallucinations to nudge people towards certain spots or places. They can trap people in a room with seemingly no exit or make them walk in circles in a house either to immediately kick them out or to make them forever walk in circles. There is so much a ghost can do when their voice alone can cause an entire human being hallucinate. They can trap them, torment them or simply make them leave.

Hallucinatory powers would add a whole other dimension to Danny Phantom. How would ghosts utilize it? Considering Danny's halfa status, will he be affected by ghost speak or the hallucinations? How would it affect his friends and sister? There is so much you can do with this

Additional fun part of infrasound ghost speak. Some animals like whales, elephants and pigeons use infrasound for communications and predicting weather. Will Danny become a new type of Disney princess (again)? Or will he put Amity Park's weather forecast out of business? [3]

#dp #danny phantom #dp headcanons #danny phantom headcanon #hallucinations #hallucinating #dp au #My prompts #baldsthoughts

93 notes · View notes

takeyourcyanide · 3 months

Text

Self-Cannibalism

Summary: Stein is essentially having a psychotic episode and Marie walks in on it.

Have this since I didn’t know what else to write

Self-indulgence is fun

——————

Stein’s ringing ears were filled with the sounds of incoherent ramblings coming from multiple voices. The only discernible sentence being spoke happened to be, “Don’t leave,” as Stein had stood from his former position on his quaint sofa.

As he left the small living space, making his way to his bedroom as it was nearly five in the morning, he ignored the disturbing feeling of a presence behind him, following him closely, stalking him. Though he glanced into every dark room he passed by. Sometimes, he’d thought he saw figures, which was why he much preferred the doors to be closed. Of course, they were most likely manipulations of the oppressive, and yet comforting shadows holding the rooms in their grasps. In their chokeholds.

Stein desperately wanted to sleep, the pangs of exhaustion ripping his eyes out from their rightful homes. He hasn’t slept since… He has never slept. He had always been an insomniac, but the dead woman and the tall man never helped.

He pushed open the door of his bedroom, rushing through the pleasant darkness to his bed, turning on the metal lamp on his nightstand. He wanted to take a look around his room. He wanted to make sure that there would be nothing there to disturb his rest.

But there always was. There always will be.

He pulled the soft, grey comforter over his thighs, his hands were frigid and pale. His eyes were unnaturally and scarily wide open as he peered about his bedroom.

Stein realized, as he scanned every crevice that existed around him, that he had never experienced what most might call “safety.” He did not even feel safe in his own home.

The strangest part was that he didn’t even mind. He had grown accustomed to the constant feeling of being closely observed, like bacteria under a microscope. The people he presumed were watching him intently were like his friends now. He could not get rid of them. He had, too, grown accustomed to the figures dashing from the corners of his eyes. He had grown accustomed to never being able to truly trust his senses. He had grown accustomed to the “better” months and the “episodes” he’d have.

After all, he’s been experiencing such things since he was a small child.

No one else seemed to know what it was like to have to genuinely question your sanity as a six year old. They didn’t know what it was like to know that anyone would gladly lock you away and throw away the key if they knew the real you.

They didn’t understand anything.

Nor did he.

Stein looked up towards his vent, always making sure no one was lurking from within it, even if it wasn’t logically possible, as that vent was surely too small for anyone to fit inside of it.

He had been struggling to grasp onto the logical part of his brain as of late.

As he stared suspiciously at the white vent, he was met with the odd sight of a liquid pouring from out of the cracks of its “lid,” of sorts.

It was of a blood red color.

It had the same consistency of blood.

It poured like blood.

Stein raised an eyebrow, staring even more intently at what appeared to be blood rushing out of his vent. Perhaps an animal died in it? Perhaps he was merely hallucinating?

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Stein whipped his head around to the other side, having sworn that he’d seen some sort of object beside him.

He was ultimately met with the odd sight of floating eyes - eyes similar to the one you’d see on the Illuminati symbol. The only difference being that they had more color, they were more realistic.

He moved his head back and forth, left and right, glancing at the sights laid before his eyes. Was he hallucinating? Surely he was.

He peered ahead, his door suddenly being frantically opened and closed by the aforementioned dead woman. She was tall - incredibly so. She adorned a ripped up white sundress, it was painted in spots with what was presumably her own blood. Sticks and leaves were stuck to the white article. Her long, stringy, black hair fell over her nearly white face.

Stein was growing increasingly overwhelmed by the whispers, by the ringing, by these obnoxious visuals. He slapped his hands onto his hears, rocking back and forth erratically, hoping it would all just stop.

But it never would.

Jumbled and intertwined thoughts flooded his mind. He wondered whether or not there were cameras he did not know about hidden around his house. He wondered if his friends were all in on it - were involved with a team of researches, of whom were studying Stein. Perhaps they genetically engineered him to be this way for the sake of observation and experimentation. Perhaps he was actually from another planet entirely, and he was brought here for the same reasons as before. He’s a government secret.

He scorned himself in his agitated head, telling himself that all of that was incredibly stupid and entirely illogical.

But no matter how many times he repeated that to himself as a sort of mantra, he couldn’t shake the feeling that all of that was true off.

Stein continuously glanced upwards in all directions, being met with various different stimuli each time he raised his head.

He began grabbing at his hair, attempting to practically rip it out of his scalp in pure frustration. He was feeling awfully violent, and he was the only organism there to take it all out on.

For his entire life he’s been trying to tell himself that he’s only hallucinating. He’s been trying to tell himself that those weird thoughts that cause his brain to scramble and make all his thoughts incoherent and difficult to process are only delusions.

It was as though he was in a constant battle against himself. Two parts of him were at war with one another: the part of him that was holding onto reality by a thread, that was being grounded only by science, only by those around him, and the part of him that had already completely let go.

He simultaneously wanted to simply let go, be himself entirely, to do whatever he wanted and to allow himself to fall into his own little reality, and wanted to stay living in the reality of others.

He wanted to have his cake and to eat it, too.

After it all didn’t die down, and after the shadows themselves began to dance intricately around him, forming into all kinds of shapes, his eyes began to burn and nearly spill over.

Seldom did Stein ever weep, but he was left with no other option. He was entirely helpless. A victim of his own brain - a victim of himself.

He was born devouring himself from the inside out. One day there’d be nothing left to eat.

He dreaded that day. It was possibly the only thing he truly feared.

His body shook with small, pathetic, pitiful sobs. He took his hands out of his hair, his scalp throbbing in pain, as he wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his own back soothingly. In moments such as that, he felt like such a child.

He wasn’t even scared. He was just tired. So goddamn tired. And so goddamn helpless. He was left with nothing, he was nothing, he was hollow. He was truly as helpless as an infant.

It caused a sense of paranoia to creep up on him, clawing its way through his heart, constricting it like a boa.

He rarely actually felt paranoia, it was typically more of a thought process for him, a perception of the world around him.

The constricting and the static and everything simply became too much, as he yelled exasperatedly, “What do you want?”

He realized he’d receive no reply, but what else was he meant to do?

He longed for something it seemed, though he didn’t know what it was. His hand reached out for something, though there was nothing before him.

Stein quickly wiped at the salty tears falling down his cheeks, looking back over to the side of the bed.

The eyes were no longer there. But he was.

Stein had seen the male in a dream once before. No, twice before.

It was next to impossible to describe the young boy’s face in words.

Despite how horrifying his eyes were, Stein found them rather beautiful. They were surrounded by a shadow of sorts, his scleras appearing almost black in the darkness. He was something of a demon. Perhaps the man himself.

Stein rushed over to the other side of his bed, feeling that he might be in imminent danger. His wide eyes never faltered as he stared a hole into the boy.

“Why are you here?” Stein spoke, practically startled out of properly crying.

The loud creaking of his door brought his attention back towards the rest of the room, the dead and tall woman being replaced by a blonde, short woman.

“Stein?” She groggily called out, eyes landing upon the man in question. She was wearing her pajamas, having evidently been woken up by all of the noise Stein was making. After all, the room in which Marie was sleeping wasn’t very far from Stein’s own.

One hand of his was up defensively, the other being used to hold himself up. His eyes were bugging out of his skull, no discernible expression on his face. She noticed, however, tears slowly falling down his face, said eyes being watery and glazed over. They were like little black holes on his face.

“Stein, what’s wrong?” She said, approaching him cautiously. Marie remarked how much he looked like a cornered stray, and she didn’t want to startle him even more so. It was rather difficult, though, as sparks of concern shot down her spine. She’d never, not in her years worth of knowing Stein, seen him even shed a tear.

She put her hands up as she approached him, attempting to display that she “came in peace,” so to speak.

Stein moved suddenly, pulling his knees up to his chest, hands wrapping around himself as he stared anywhere but her face. His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, despite feeling mildly better now that the blonde woman had seemingly eradicated his hallucinations.

She came right up beside him, Stein back up against the headboard in response.

“Why are you crying?” She gently prodded in the sweetest voice she could possibly muster.

Stein did not answer her, he only stared at her in pure suspicion. He looked her up and down, eyes remaining large.

“You can tell me, it’s okay,” she spoke as though she was speaking to a child. Stein didn’t know whether to feel demeaned or comforted. He didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t feel much like speaking. And even if he wanted to, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to. It would’ve been a chore to even try. He didn’t exactly feel real. He didn’t feel like he was in the little “reality box” that he supposedly was. He didn’t feel as though he was in his body, or that his body was his to begin with.

Marie sighed, moving toward the other side of the bed, crawling on top of it. She sat next to Stein, running her hand through his hair comfortingly.

“Oh, my god, you’re bleeding a little, Stein,” she exclaimed quietly, taking her hand slowly out of his hair. The small bit of red on the left side of his head transferred onto her fingers.

She decided to wipe it off on her skirt, moving her hand to lightly run through his hair, as gently as possible given his apparent injury, then proceeding to rub repeatedly up and down his back, pondering to herself what had happened to his poor scalp.

Marie immediately noted how tense he felt beneath her fingers.

Stein hadn’t moved his head to look at her from her new position, continuing to stare in the same direction as previously.

“You don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to even speak right now. But I hope whatever got you so worked up isn’t as much of a problem now,” Marie smiled at him, observing the male closely.

She tilted her head slightly, smile contorting into a frown as she realized how Stein’s muscles weren’t becoming any less tense. Usually, he enjoyed it when she massaged his back, melting into the touch. He seemed to still be suspicious of her, however.

And she was sure that telling him that he could trust her wasn’t going to do anything. And if it did do something, it would most likely be making him more suspicious of her.

“I’m not going to even pretend that I know what you’re going through, but I’ll always be here to play with your hair and be your personal masseuse, Stein,” she said jokingly, chuckling a little. It was as though she was communicating with a corpse. But she’d remain patient.

“You haven’t been sleeping lately, have you?” She rhetorically and sympathetically asked, not expecting any sort of reply, as she observed the dark pits carved beneath his eyes. He appeared to be as white as a sheet. It made Marie feel terrible.

“I’m sorry, Stein,” she said, eyes narrow and eyebrows furrowed, a frown present on her face. “I hope it gets better for you.”

“Won’t,” Stein just barely mumbled out in a strained tone, surprising Marie. Typically when he’d have these little “episodes” in which he was relatively still and mute, he wouldn’t speak at all for a brief period of time. He did, however, remain in the same position, staring at nothing at all, barely breathing, rarely blinking, and his eyes would stay permanently huge and alert.

“What do you mean it won’t?” Marie spoke sort of encouragingly, sort of curiously, sort of worried, all simultaneously.

She received no answer.

Marie sighed, laughing and stating, “I don’t think telling you to be more positive is going to help anything, huh? You’ll probably just end up annoyed at me on top of all of this.”

“Plus, maybe you’re right, despite how much I hate to say it. But just know that I’ll always be here for you. We all will,” she beamed at him kindly, continuing to rub up and down on his back.

The truth was, she knew that he was right. He would live with this, with everything that tormented him for the rest of his life. And it was obvious that he knew that very well. But she hoped to god that he trusted that she’d always be there for him, no matter what.

The most depressing aspect of that was the fact that she also knew that he most likely did not.

And that he most likely never did.