Stagnant

Recovery

It was pretty easy packing up my life and moving two hours away from my town, after all I hadn't been there in a month. It wasn't hard leaving my home -it wasn't my home simple as that. I lived there but my heart didn't belong there. Leaving was cutting the tether and with no attachment I was free. Free to be healthy once again. Free to remember healthily. Free to be happy.

I had been running away but now I could stop running. Now I could settle and heal.

A sigh escapes me, light shining through the window, the suns glare waking me up. My hand moves to the other side of the bed only to find it empty once again. I already knew it was going to be empty but disappointment washes over me. I shouldn't be disappointed, I know I'm going to be alone. I guess I just have to get used to it after sleeping in the same bed as Jackson for weeks.

It was hard waking up in bed alone, trying to find the motivation to get out of bed and push myself to live and break the cycle I had been living in for that year from now. But I had been in Exeter for a month now. I had been fighting to not fall back in to that chasm of depression. I wouldn't go back there.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to get out of bed. I force myself to brush my teeth. I force myself to have a shower. I force myself to get dressed. I force myself to make breakfast and eat it.

Everyday it got easier. As each day passed I found it easier to get out of bed but it was finding that motivation. Somedays it was bleak, the motivation wasn't as strong and I have to think of Elliot. I imagine his voice in my head, softly telling me that he hates to see me like that, that I have to get up. He tells me he loves me and that he'll always be with me.

I spend the day buying food for the apartment, walking around the shops of the city I moved to, still navigating myself around. Every day I go somewhere, so I'm not stuck in the apartment all day. I come shopping, or I go to the library, take the train to the beach or visit local attractions. I gain independence, relishing in the freedom and strength I show, pushing myself to move forward. I'm no longer glued to the floor while I watch everyone else around me move forward. I'm moving with them.

Depression may be with me for years to come, Elliots death may lay heavily on my shoulders for the rest of my life but at least I wasn't stagnant anymore. I was moving upwards towards the light, I was rising from my dark abyss where depression has held my captive. Stagnancy wasn't a word I related to anymore.

The day passes quickly and before I know it I'm I sat in the crowded arena. There was no need for a blanket since the nights were warming up but I did bundle up, not truly trusting the spring night air. Stadium lights shine, illuminating the entire place but they were forgotten about when I opened my book.

Once again, I was sucked away from the real world, being transported to the world of the angels, demons and shadowhunters.

A tap on my shoulder shakes me out of my hypnotion and I glance up to see a staff member nervously smiling. I already know the drill from watching trainings so I stand, gather my stuff and follow her through the stadium. I pass fellow rugby players, them hugging me or smiling or chatting and I return the favour, congratulating them on how well they played.

I assume they won by their wide smiles.

Then we're in front of a door and the staff member leaves me.

I barely knock twice before the door is opened and I'm hauled inside, thick and muscly arms being wrapped around me, the stench of sweat and body odour filling my senses and the sweat sticking to parts of me.

Despite all this, I hug him back. "You played good."

"Don't pretend. You never glanced up from your book once."